All I Crave is a Normal Life
by cazgirl
Summary: R for later chapters. (HarSev) Harry has defeated Voldemort at great personal loss and has fled the wizarding world. Circumstances force him to return and he must face all that he left behind, including his greatest enemy - and his greatest fear.
1. Default Chapter

The story starts with a 25 year old Harry. This first chapter is just a little bit of background but the second chapter should really kick the story off. All reviews will be welcome. Don't be shy, I'm pretty thick skinned. 

**ALL I CRAVE IS A ****NORMAL**** LIFE**

"Miss White, would you mind giving me a hand back here please?"  the young chemist called. "Sure thing." At 25 years old the young chemist was not what you would call a striking man. He wasn't unattractive, but then he didn't really stand out either. This is something he was very grateful for. With untidy dark brown hair and a lean and muscular build, he could have been anyone. One thing that was striking about this young man were his eyes, which were the deepest emerald green you'll ever see and became lighter or darker depending on his mood. Not many people knew that he had a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead either because he kept his untidy hair long enough to hide his scar. 

Peculiar things seemed to happen when he was around though. For instance, it seemed to his young assistant that the various items he would need to mix a particular medication had just suddenly arrived to rest on his work bench from their various places around the room when she had turned her back. She could have sworn that they hadn't been there just a few seconds ago. She could also have sworn that she heard him mutter something like "flaxxino", or "have a go", but again, she couldn't really be sure. She decided right then that she needed a coffee. A strong one. "Why did he call me over when he didn't really need me?! Typical bloody male!" 

This young chemist really is an extraordinary young man though. You see, he is Harry Potter, and anyone who's anyone knows the history of Harry Potter. Though Harry wished they didn't, because he felt like a specimen in a museum the way people talked about him and stared at him, particularly at the scar on his forehead.  

Harry did not understand how important he was to the wizarding world until the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts, after the death of Sirius Black, his godfather. A prophecy had all those who had ever heard it that this young boy was the only one in the world who could kill Voldemort, the darkest of dark wizards. Harry was destined to either kill Voldemort, or be killed by him. 

He was forbidden to return to his aunt and uncle after his fifth year, and was instead given over to intense and severe training for his upcoming battle. Harry thought this was all more than a little unfair. He didn't want to the saviour of the wizarding world. In fact, in his opinion, the wizarding world couldn't  have picked a more inappropriate hero. 

Harry was enormously clumsy (kept dropping his bloody wand and Ron kept tripping over it!) and very shortsighted. He didn't want to even think about what would happen if his glasses were knocked off during the battle. Half his luck though. He didn't think he was overly furnished in the brain department (good thing he was friends with Hermione then). He did, however, concede that he had enormous power. He also added that it wasn't much good if he couldn't use it properly. Hence the training. 

He spent three years doing nothing but training. He did physical training to develop his body. He studied until he thought his eyes would fall out of his head. He studied hexes, curses, defences, history, etc.  Toward the end of his training period, he understood so much about the origins and derivatives of certain spells that he even developed a few interesting hexes of his own. He studied various fighting styles. He studied wizard's dueling, muggle's dueling, street fighting, martial arts. To add to this, he was trained to use different types of weapons. After all, a wizard isn't much good if he drops his wand now is he. His weapon of choice was a small 0.45 revolver, though he was a damn good shot with a sniper's rifle. Perhaps one of the most important lessons he learned was to utilise his magic and focus his will without a wand. 

Apparently a wand was used to focus the will of the wizard. This means that a wizard should be able to focus his will without his wand, though all wizards have admitted that this is very difficult and few can actually do it. Harry indeed mastered this form of wizardry. He found that he preferred to rely on his wand for certain things, such as using simple hexes like the full body bind, or the jelly legs. He preferred not to rely on his wand to do certain other things, such as summoning objects (or people – an interesting experiment during his training that led to many laps around the acreage as punishment!) and doing such mundane things as heating his blankets at night. 

Harry was a dangerous young man when he completed his training at the hands of the Ministry Aurors (only those that could be trusted by Dumbledore of course – after all, there was a war on and not many people's loyalty could be assured) and the various muggle military and weapons specialists that were brought in for just this purpose. His reflexes were lightning fast and his power and agility were incredible. Unfortunately, in a certain way, this just made Harry feel even worse about himself. He could never blend in as young Mr Potter. He was, after all, the boy-who-lived. Now, he was, quite possibly, the most powerful wizard alive. His power had always been superior to even Dumbledore's, as he was not only born a powerful wizard but Voldemort had also transferred some of his power to Harry in his first attempt to kill him as a fifteen month old baby. Now that he had such a high level of control over his power, he was…amazing. And, destined to be isolated from everybody else for the rest of his life. His greatest wish of all was just to be _normal_. You know, the average Joe that no one would look twice at. 

The war had been continuing in his absence and many losses had been accounted for on both sides. A final showdown was scheduled. Voldemort arranged for Professor Snape to kidnap Harry and bring him to the Dark Lord so that he could be killed once and for all. Voldemort's plan, however, crumbled. Professor Snape, the spy among spies, had informed Dumbledore of the plan immediately and arrangements were made for a showdown of enormous magnitude to follow. As Harry was taken to Voldemort, the members of the Order apparated to his hideout and busied themselves by killing the Dark Lord's Death Eaters and followers, which left Harry free to deal with Voldemort. And he did. Spectacularly. The final battle between himself and Voldemort was horrific. It was bloody and violent. It seemed that Harry might have lost at one point though. You see, despite how powerful Harry had become, and how well trained he was, he was still a young man and still felt a dreadful guilt and sense of shame when he had to kill people. He had killed though, numerous times – Death Eaters and spies. But killing people was something that he felt that he would never get used to, nor did he really want to.  Voldemort and Harry faced each other, exhausted, bloody and both knew that the first one to make a mistake at that point would die. As it turned out, Voldemort's biggest mistake was to insult Harry's parents. 

"Potter, did you know that I took you parents before I killed them? Yes Potter. I raped their young and beautiful bodies and broke them before I killed them!"

Harry saw red and killed Voldemort with a spell he had developed himself. A combination of the Avada Kedavra and a spell which ate through a person from the inside out. Voldemort's end had been violent and brutal. But the war was over. Harry was taken to St Mungo's to recover and that is the last that anyone from the wizarding world ever saw of him. One minute he was there and when the nurse returned he had gone. Disappeared.

Albus Dumbledore was notified immediately. Minerva would tell others that he couldn't speak for fully ten minutes and after that, for the next few hours the only words he could be heard to say were "Oh Harry, I am so sorry." 

No one from the wizarding world knew that Harry had fled to begin a new life in muggle London. He had awoken in St Mungo's and had healed himself as much as he could (which wasn't much, but it was enough) and then had left the world he had come to both love and hate. He had been planning an escape for quite some time and had already emptied "Harry Potter's" account and had opened another account in "Jason Green's" name. Unbeknownst to anyone, he had spent some time in muggle England and had legally changed his name to Jason Green in a small and out of the way registry.  It was a simple matter then to use a concealment charm to alter his appearance and walk into Gringotts and withdraw sufficient money from his account to convert into muggle money and walk out of the wizarding world without any intention of returning. 

*****

Harry turned the key in the door to his flat and entered his home. 

"Jason, I'm in the kitchen."

"Mmm, it smells great," he replied, encircling his arms around his partner and placing small kisses along the side of his neck. Harry rested his head on his lover's shoulder and watched as he added the finishing touches to the dinner he was preparing for the both of them. It was the simple things like this that made him the happiest and the feeling of contentment tugged sharply on his heart strings.

"You, on the other hand, smell like a sweaty man that's spent all day in a pharmacy! Go and have a shower!" Greg cried, pushing Harry away from him and in the direction of the bathroom.

Laughing, Harry yelled out, "Close, I'm a man that's spent all day in a pharmacy and then spent an hour in the gym afterwards, but 10 points for being close. You could join me if you like," Harry waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

"As tempting as that is, I think I'll stay with the dinner. We may never end up eating dinner if I hop in there with you." 

"How do you know I didn't just want you to wash my back?"

"You told me that your arms have been broken and dislocated so many times that you don't need anyone to wash your back because you have freaky arms that can twist themselves in bizarre angles. Try another excuse, I've heard that one before."

"Can't say I didn't offer!"

"Idiot!" Greg muttered to himself. "But you're my idiot, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Dinner was cosy and intimate. Harry was a very private man and treasured the time he could spend alone with his lover and partner. Harry was an excellent cook but he didn't cook very often. He had had enough of cooking when he lived with the Dursleys. Greg, on the other hand loved to cook. He was a chef in a very posh restaurant in London. In fact, that was where they had first met. Seven years ago, Harry had been a week in muggle London and had just moved into his flat. He decided to treat himself to a nice lunch at Chateaux, which was rumoured to be expensive, serve good food, have excellent service and afford people lots of privacy while they were eating. 

Most of Harry's life had been spent in the limelight up until that point and he had developed a small case of social phobia. It was unobtrusive as far as it went though. He didn't like spending time with large crowds of people but rarely had panic attacks over it unless he felt truly smothered. 

The meal that Harry enjoyed had been so good that he went to compliment the chef personally. A close friendship had developed at that point and the two had quickly become lovers and partners. As such, Greg considered it an insult if Harry didn't let him cook for the both of them each evening. 

"I have a surprise for you. Actually, it's as much for me as it is for you, but it was done more for you than for me. At least I think so…"

"Greg, I have absolutely no idea what you said after 'I have a surprise for you' but carry on, I'm sure I'll catch up soon enough." Harry loved Greg's round about way of talking when he was excited. Usually he had to wait until Greg was done and ask some pretty specific questions to catch up. It was hilarious. 

"So I went ahead and booked us a hotel for two days. Isn't that great?!"

The sides of Harry's mouth twitched as he fought to suppress the laughter that he could feel building up inside his chest. It was the 'let's throw Harry a crumb and see how long it takes for him to catch up' game that they routinely played. "Greg, it's fantastic, but when did you plan the holiday for?"

"Didn't I tell you?"

"No – no you didn't."

"This weekend. We've been talking about it for ages."

"Actually this is the first I've heard of it so you must have been talking about it for ages with yourself."

"Oh. You are free this weekend, aren't you?"

"Of course, and even if I weren't I'd make myself available just for you."

Greg flushed and smiled, feeling the stirrings of love pulling at his heart. Jason was perfect for him. Light hearted and good humoured enough to deal with his eccentricities but passionate and intense in the love he felt for him. "You know, I might just have to take you up on that later."

"I certainly hope so. So you didn't tell me where this hotel is."

Shaking himself out of his idle fantasies about what he planned on doing to Jason later that evening, Greg replied, "The Highlands in Scotland". 

"You'll have to be a little more specific than that, babe. Scotland is a big place."

"I've got a map, I'll show you later. How about you do the dishes this evening and then we can have an early night. Or not so early really, I'm going to have a shower and then I have some rather interesting plans for you this evening Mr. Green…" 

All plans were for naught though. By the time Greg finished his shower Harry was asleep on his side on their bed. Arms and legs spread out in all directions as if he had literally dropped down on his side and fallen asleep when he hit the bed.  "Poor little lamb. I'll let you off this evening, but don't think you'll get off so lightly next time." Greg placed a sweet kiss on Harry's temple and then climbed onto their bed. Harry didn't even stir as he climbed onto the bed and spooned up behind him, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist and nuzzling into Harry's neck, placing small kisses onto the back of his neck before falling asleep himself. 

Meanwhile, Harry was in hell. All around him people were flinging hexes. There was blood, so much blood and the moans of the injured and dying was more than he could bear. Everything was tinged red. His scar was bleeding right into his eyes but he couldn't afford to take his eyes off the evil wizard before him. 

"Potter, did you know that I took you parents before I killed them? Yes Potter. I raped their young and beautiful bodies and broke them before I killed them!"

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

"Jason!  Jason, snap out of it. Wake up. C'mon. Wake up."  Greg was shaking Harry as hard as he could. "Not again," he thought. How is it that one person can have so many nightmares? What has he seen? And more silently, he thought to himself, _Why__ can't he tell me about it? _Pushing these thoughts to the back of his head, he hurried to their bathroom to fill a jug with cold water. He returned to their room and poured the cold water over Harry, who woke up spluttering and choking. Greg had long since learned that this was the only way to wake him up when he was taken by one of his nightmares. Jason would never talk to him about it, and Greg would never push him. The nightmare seemed so horrific that Greg considered it couldn't be easy to talk about or relive. If he wanted to talk, he'd be there to listen. If not, he'd still be there to support and comfort him. 

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…" cried Harry as he wrapped his arms about himself and cried, rocking himself back and forth on the bed. Greg put the jug down and leaped up on to the bed to sit behind Harry and cradle him from behind. 

"Sshhh. It's o.k. I've got you baby and I'm not letting go." Harry continued to cry. His body was racked with sobs. Greg rocked Harry until he finished crying and fell into an exhausted sleep. "What have you seen, lover? What could be so bad? I won't let them get you baby. Don't you worry."

*****

It was only 5:30am when Harry woke up with a corker of a headache. A pressure headache. He was sitting up in bed and his lover was holding him from behind.  "My hero," he murmured. "Always saving me from myself." Harry shifted himself in Greg's arms which caused Greg to stir. He placed a long and lingering kiss on Greg's lips. "Morning sunshine." Greg opened his eyes and blinked groggily. Man. His back ached and so did his neck. He would never complain though. He'd endure all of this and more for the man who was in his arms. "Hey sexy," he whispered to Harry. 

"Thank you, love. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You can't help it. People don't just ask for nightmares you know. Here, you go." He reached over to the bedside table and handed Harry two Panadeine tablets along with a glass of water. 

Harry swallowed the tablets and the water and settled back in Greg's arms. "I love you so much. What would I do without you?" 

"Just sleep, tired one. I'll be here when you wake up."

*****

"Jason, I'm just going to duck out and get some milk. I'll be back in about ten minutes."

"Hmmmm..." Harry replied sleepily.

It was a little while later when Harry was awoken by banging on the door of the flat. "Greg, is someone at the door?...Greg…."

_Is he still out?  _ Harry thought to himself. 

Harry quickly pulled on a dressing gown and went to open the door. He was greeted by two somber looking policeman who flashed their identity badges before him. 

"Excuse me sir, does Mr. Jason Green live here?"

_Oh, dear God!_ screamed his head. A feeling of dread had settled into the pit of his stomach, but outwardly he looked at the two officers and replied, "I'm Jason Green. Can I help you?"

"May we come in?"


	2. Chapter 2

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they belong to the talented  J.K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine.

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed.

CHAPTER 2

_Oh Dear God!_ screamed his head. A feeling of dread had settled into the pit of his stomach, but outwardly he looked at the two officers and replied, "I'm Jason Green. Can I help you?"

"May we come in?"

"Of course." Harry moved to let the officers in and then closed the door behind them. He did not move further into the flat though. He leaned against the door and eyed the officers expectantly. 

"Sir, we are very sorry. Mr. Greg Peterson was involved in an accident this morning. He was the pedestrian victim of a hit and run accident about an hour ago on the corner of..."

Harry wasn't listening anymore. He thought he felt his heart stop. He didn't notice his body slide down the length of the wall and land hard on the floor. A searing pain had broken out into his chest, his head, his throat and his eyes. Briefly he wondered whether Greg had survived the accident, but cool common sense informed him that the officers would not be so sorry about the accident if he had survived and they would be hurrying him into action if Greg was waiting for him in a hospital. 

He felt himself being helped up by the officers and being helped to the couch. 

"Can we get you anything sir, can we ring anybody to come and sit with you at this time?"

"Wha…uh…no…thank you. Thank you for coming. I just…I need…" Harry couldn't stop the tears. 

"We don't quite know how to ask this sir, but we need you to come and identify the body. We don't have to leave this minute if you don't feel you can though."

"No, it's fine. I'll just clean up and get changed. I'll be right back."

*****

Harry could barely breathe as he was driven to the hospital. He could scarcely register his surroundings as he was led into the room where Greg's body was being held. It was a cold room, everything was so harsh and sterile. Greg lay on the table. 

"Oh my God."

"Is that Greg Peterson sir?"

"Yes it is." And he promptly fainted.

*****

The next week went by in a haze of fogginess and non-awareness. Greg's parents came down to be with Harry and to organise the funeral which was scheduled for the Saturday of the weekend he and Greg were supposed to be spending in Scotland. 

"Damn," muttered Harry. He was presently sitting in his armchair staring into the fire. He had taken leave from work and had spent most of the week moping or drinking. The chair beside his was glaringly empty. It was Greg's chair. They would spent many evenings together staring into the fire. When the weather was too warm for a fire, they would spend many evenings playing board games or sitting in the kitchen which had a big window with a lovely view. They took pleasure in each other's company and words weren't always necessary between them. They were happy to share silent companionship. 

"Why did you leave me? I need you Greg. I really do. I love you…so…much. Why did you have to go? I had big plans for us. Then again, it really is just the way my luck swings isn't it? I mean I lost my whole family to the war with Voldemort. Mum, Dad, Sirius. A lot of friends and good people died then. For what? Just about everyone I get close to dies. Why? Don't I deserve a little bit of happiness? Just a little? I'm not asking for a whole lot. I only wanted Greg. Just Greg. Just one little thing. Just one. 

"You were always my hero. Always. You saved me from drowning in nightmares. You stopped me from hating myself. For just a little while I forgot I was Harry-bloody-Potter. I forgot I was the boy-who-bloody-well-lived. For a little while I was just Jason Green, London chemist and partner and lover of Greg Peterson. I didn't deserve you. I didn't even give you an explanation. I never even told you. I loved you but I couldn't tell you who I was. I feel like a heel. How can I ask your forgiveness? How can I even dare? Would you have forgiven me? Yes, I think you would. You were all goodness. Would you have understood. No, but you would have tried. Damn it. What am I going to do?"

Harry wiped the tears from his face. Three days on and he was still crying. He thought he would have cried himself dry by now but apparently he hadn't. 

He knew he had to move out of his flat though. He couldn't function here. Everywhere he looked he saw and felt Greg. When he sat in the lounge room he could see Greg in his favourite arm chair reading or drinking his favourite champagne, or even just sleeping on the couch. When he went into the kitchen he could see him working at the stove. When he entered the bedroom he could remember how it felt to make love to Greg. He could still feel his soft and skilled hands on his body, running along his back up his neck and tangling themselves in his untidy hair. He could still feel his kisses on his lips, his skin. And he could remember how he felt under his hands. Greg was sensitive to touch. He would arch into Harry's hands at the smallest contact. He remembered that Greg loved to be kissed and licked just below his ear. How it would make him gasp and moan and arch right into him. The first time Harry had discovered that spot, the intensity of his reaction made him stop for a little while. Greg had just taken his head in his hands and said "If you don't finish what you started, I'm going to have to hurt you in ways that a man should never be hurt!" It had sent the both of them off into fits of laughter.

Harry slept in his chair by the fire again that night. He couldn't bear to sleep in their bed. He wasn't even able to sleep unless he took sleeping pills either. Harry knew that it was a bad habit but he simply didn't care right now. He didn't care about anything. He had lost the most important thing in his life and he was right at the end of caring. 

Fate had delivered yet another blow to Harry Potter. If anybody had been looking at Harry closely they would have noticed that he had started to wear long sleeves, even though it was the middle of summer. No one noticed. Harry didn't actually expect anyone to care. He had only really seen Greg's parents and the staff at his pharmacy since his lover had died and that had only been three days ago. Harry had taken to injuring himself. 

The day after he had identified Greg's body, Harry had seriously considered killing himself. Joining Greg. He could easily have killed himself with magic, but he decided that he wanted something more "real" and more painful. Something he could see. He wanted to be able to see the life drip out of him. He sat down on the floor of the bathroom with a set of knife blades in his hand and lightly skimmed the skin off his wrist where he could see the vein stick up. Just lightly at first. Just enough to break the surface and see the blood bead on the skin. Could he do it? He could. Did he want to? There was a tough one. He didn't want to be here anymore. He knew that much, but something was holding him back. He didn't know what it was, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. For a brief period he thought that maybe he shouldn't kill himself. Considering his past actions, he'd probably be going straight to hell in an express. He may have rid the world of Voldemort but he had killed too many people and caused the deaths of so many more in the process. Could the end really justify the means? Harry thought not. One person's life is not more important than another person's life. Each person who had died during the war was just as important as himself or any other person. The souls of innumerable dead people weighed heavily on the young man. 

He couldn't kill himself. But he could definitely hurt himself. Seeing the blood dripping from his arm was fascinating and for a brief period, he wasn't hurting for Greg. He wasn't in anguish and his heart didn't feel like it was going to burst. He had found a release. Something to focus on instead of the vacant hole in his heart. Watching his blood flow was fascinating. He didn't realise that something so mundane could be so relaxing. He ran the blade over his wrist again and again. Feeling the small sting as the blade sliced into his flesh and watching the beading he could forget for a small time. He had control. He had a release. And he was fascinated at how much blood could come from such small wounds. 

The sting of the wounds, the sting of the dettol which he applied to his wounds all distracted him from his grief. 

"Ah Greg, what will I do without you?"

*****

The funeral was drawing to a close. Harry sat between Greg's parents in a state of numbness. After the service, he couldn't bring himself to view the body in the coffin. He just couldn't. He wanted to remember Greg as he was when he was alive, not laid out in a coffin. He excused himself from the service and went out for some air. Hands in his pockets he found himself walking briskly through a park. He paused at the edge of the small river running through it and tried to clear his head. He couldn't live like this. He needed a plan. He was stronger than this. He was a survivor. After all, he thought dryly, that's what he was born for, right – surviving? 

He sat down at lake's edge and pondered his position. He knew he had to move out of his flat, possibly even away from London. He just couldn't stay here. _Good work Potter_, he thought to himself. _Running again.__ You seem to do that a lot don't you? _"Sod off," he snapped at his inner voice. Several people turned to stare at him. Harry blushed. 

"Ah, mosquitoes. Can't stand them. Huge buggers too," he mumbled to the onlookers by way of explanation. 

_Way to go Potter, now everyone thinks you're two sandwiches short of a picnic, you froot loop!_ He thought to himself. As he got up to leave, a loose page of a newspaper flew into his leg. Harry bent to remove it when he drew back in surprise. The pictures on the page were moving. But the only newspapers with moving pictures were wizard's newspapers. Surely a wizard wouldn't have been so careless as to discard their paper in  muggle park, would they? 

Harry bent to pick it up. The paper was advertising various wizarding items such as broom sticks. One page was an employment advertisement page and one particular advertisement caught his eye. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was advertising for someone to fill the post of Professor teaching Defence against the Dark Arts. 

"I'll bet that position is still cursed," chuckled Harry. He moved to throw the paper away when he stopped and caught himself. He didn't know why the advertisement had caught his interest the way it did but he found himself folding the page and putting it into his pocket. He walked a bit further so that he was hidden amongst the trees in the park and apparated to his flat in London to think about the advertisement a bit more. 

*****

Harry sat at the kitchen table with the newspaper page sitting flat out in front of him. A part of him wanted to take the job. He missed Ron and Hermione. He missed waking up surrounded by magic and living life through magic. On the other hand, a large part of him had washed his hands of the wizarding world forever. In London he was Jason Green, a chemist. In the wizarding world he was a hero, a saviour, the boy-who-lived, a  puppet-head for everybody to look at. No one cared what that entailed and no one cared about the effect it had on him. He had been responsible for countless deaths in pursuit of the one purpose for which he had been born. People associated Harry Potter with Voldemort. They didn't associate Harry Potter with bacon, for instance, which he loved. They didn't associate Harry Potter with coffee, which he also loved. 

He loved his life but everything reminded him of Greg. The wizarding world was about as different from anything having to do with his lover as it got. Harry thought that it might be good if he could go back for a year to heal. Away from everything associated with Greg or the life he led with him

'But it would be Hell. Everybody would demand to know where I went. Everybody would want to see me and parade me around like a bloody specimen.' He thought.

"I don't need to be gawked at and I don't need to be pitied. Why can't everyone just leave me alone!" He cried aloud to himself. At the sudden outburst, a bit of magic escaped from Harry and it flicked the t.v. in the lounge room on.

"Shit, I can't do it. I just want to be left alone. I'll never get that if I go back. Shit." Harry said softly to himself. He moved to turn the t.v. off but the programme caught his eye. It was an exclusive interview with the cast and crew of the "Addams Family" movies and it was an in-depth special on the making of the movies. What caught Harry's eye was the fact that they were talking about the make-up required to "create" the various characters, like Cousin It. 

The more Harry thought about it, the more he could see that it might work. He might be able to hide in the wizarding world if no body recognised him. He had been taught how to effect complex concealment spells during his rigorous training during the war. He could easily alter his appearance. The only problem was that they wouldn't alter the colour of his eyes. And the colour of Harry's eyes was as well known as Harry's scar. Coloured contact lenses would take care of those. 

Harry had the opportunity now, but could he do it. More importantly, did he want to? He was honest enough to be able to admit to himself that he was curious to see the wizarding world again, but that he was also scared of the painful memories it would bring back. He ran to the muggle world as he didn't really have painful memories to associate with it – aside from his life with the Dursleys – but they could be easily avoided. Now he had no where left to run. There was pain on both sides of the line. What could he do? Visiting the wizarding world would be tough but so would setting up a whole new muggle life without Greg. 

He decided that he would apply to Albus for the position. If he actually got it, he would worry about what to do then. 

He spent the entire evening composing a letter to Albus that would gloss over the fact that he had no references or prior experience and he couldn't admit where he went to school. Jason Green didn't exist anywhere in the wizarding world except at Gringotts where he had an account. He sent the letter off with Hedwig who still lived with him and took some sleeping pills before he fell asleep in the kitchen. 

*****

The next day dawned bright. _Just bloody typical, _thought Harry. _Someone died and the morning has to be so happy!_ he was surprised to wake up and find that Hedwig was standing in front of him with her leg held out before him. 

_That was fast,_ he thought.  _Albus__ must be desperate!_

He took the letter from Hedwig and read it quickly:

_Dear Mr Green,_

_We acknowledge receipt of your letter of application and would be pleased if you would attend an interview at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry this morning at __10:00 am__. _

_Looking forward to meeting you_

_Yours faithfully,_

_Albus__ Dumbledore_

"Good grief! It's half past nine. I'm going to have to move fast!"

Harry quickly pulled on some clean clothes and apparated to Hogsmeade and began making his way up the path to the castle, thinking about how he was going to go about keeping his identity a secret from the wily old man that was the headmaster of the school.


	3. chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, they belong to the talented Ms Rowling. I only own the plot. This will eventually be a slash fiction Harry/Snape. As it is it deals with homosexuality.  
  
A big thankyou to all my reviewers and for the hints they've been providing me. Quite a few embarrassing details might have been left out if not for them. Thank you also to my beta-reader. Your efforts are greatly appreciated. (  
  
All thoughts will be in italics.  
  
CHAPTER 3  
  
"Good grief! It's half past nine. I'm going to have to move fast!"  
  
Harry quickly pulled on some clean clothes and apparated to Hogsmeade and began making his way up the path to the castle, thinking about how he was going to go about keeping his identity a secret from the wily old man that was the headmaster of the school.  
  
***** Harry paused at a small pub between the Hogsmeade village and the school itself to visit the toilet and weave his concealment charms into place. He made sure the bathrooms were empty and magically locked the door to the toilet so he wouldn't be interrupted. He stood before the mirror and looked at his reflection carefully. What to do. he thought to himself. He didn't want to do anything too drastic because he needed to remember how to create the image. He made his jaw a bit broader and his nose a little less angular. He attempted to hide over his scar but the thing wouldn't disappear. A faint lightning-bolt shaped outline was left on his forehead but that could be easily covered over with his hair which he magically softened and tamed. He thought amusedly to himself that his untidy sticky- up hair had actually added height to his frame and he looked abysmally short without flat hair. He also lightened the colour of his hair to a light brown. Much the same colour as Greg's Harry thought sadly. Get a grip! Now is not the time for this he thought to himself as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill.  
  
"Stop it!" He admonished out loud while slapping his face. "YOu don't have time for this now." He reached down into his pocked and pulled out the muggle camera which he had magically shrunken to fit in his pocket. He took a photo of himself so that he could remember what he looked like when he tried to replace the concealment charm. He quickly put shrunk the Polaroid and the camera and put them back in his pocket. Now for the eyes he thought. Harry pulled out the container which contained Greg's contact lenses. Greg had poor eyesight, though Harry's was much worse. He had brown contacts. Greg's eyes were a weak brown colour and he bought deep brown contact lenses because he didn't really like the colour of his eyes.  
  
His eyes clouded at the sight of them. "Shit, I really can't do this." Fresh waves of memories momentarily overwhelmed Harry.  
  
"Greg, that's gross. How can you do that to yourself everyday?!"  
  
"Get a grip, they're just contacts. Lots of people use them. You just peel back your eye like this."  
  
"Oh man! Get away from me when you're baring your eyeball like that. I've just had breakfast, and AUGH! Stop touching your eyeball. That's repulsive."  
  
"You're such a girl Jason. It doesn't hurt."  
  
"How can you stand to have those things in your eyes all day?"  
  
"It's not too bad babe, it just feels like a bit of grit in your eye. Mind you, I'll admit that my glasses are much more comfortable. But they just keep fogging up in the kitchen. This way I've got a better chance of seeing what I'm doing when there are hot things and sharp things all around me."  
  
"Fair point. It's still disgusting."  
  
"Whimp."  
  
Harry splashed cold water on his face and wiped away his tears. He tried to regulate his breathing though this was proving to be quite difficult as his chest was feeling so constricted. "Get a grip Potter" he told himself.  
  
"Right, now. I can do this." He picked up one of the contact lenses and attempted to put it in. He dragged his lower eye lid down and.promptly dropped the contact lens on the bathroom floor.  
  
"Shit." He fumbled for his glasses. "Way to go Potter. It's good to know you're still true to form. If you don't give yourself away your bloody clumsiness will." He put his glasses back on and spent the next five minutes crawling around on the toilet floor looking for his contact lens.  
  
"Right" he said, picking it up and sitting back against the wall. "How hard can it be, Greg did it all the time." Greg was also a culinary genius and was a damn sight more coordinated than you are.  
  
After some minutes of grappling and fumbling and with a large amount of luck, he finally managed to get them in.  
  
"Bugger, I should have thought this through a little better."  
  
Greg may have had poor eyesight but his lens prescription was not as strong as Harry's. Harry could see, sort of, if he really concentrated on what the shapes in front of him were.  
  
"Well, I would have bought my own contact lenses if Dumbledore had given me a little more time before the interview. Speaking of which I'm going to be really late."  
  
He looked at his reflection in the mirror again - as much as he could see anyway - and said "You'll have to do something about this habit of talking to yourself Potter, it's very disturbing!"  
  
*****  
  
Harry approached the front steps of the school out of breath and with a sense of trepidation. It all looked the same. It looked exactly as he had remembered it. Well, what did you expect? He was greeted by Minerva McGonagall who was looking every inch as imposing as he had remembered her, though this was tempered by the warm and friendly smile with which she greeted Harry.  
  
"Mr Green, thank you for arriving so promptly. I realise that the Headmaster left you little time to prepare, but, well, he was just so pleased at receiving an application. I am Professor McGonagall, but please call me Minerva. We're all friends here. Oh my goodness, you're limping. You should have let us know, we could have arranged for you to be picked up."  
  
"No no, my ankle is fine. It's just an old injury. It doesn't really hurt at all, it just never really had a chance to heal properly. In any case, AN application? As in just the one?"  
  
"Oh, no. THE application. He had several. Lots. This way please."  
  
Harry promptly tripped up the first few steps. Damn contacts. "Um, are you sure you don't need assistance. Your ankle."  
  
"No, thankyou Minerva. I just wasn't watching where I was going."  
  
Hmmm. Yup, the position is still cursed, thought Harry to himself. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing though. Well Potter, just wing it, you do that a heck of a lot.  
  
In a fit of paranoia, Harry thought to himself, Damn Malfoy! Will my ankle give me away? He sighed at this. Don't be ridiculous Potter. It was during the final battle between the light and the dark that Harry had acquired his ankle injury, among other injuries. Lucius Malfoy had stayed by his master's side and Harry had to battle him before he could battle Voldermort. Lucius's form crumpled before him under a painful curse. Harry thought him to be unconscious at best, dead at worst. He had surprised them both when the dying man silently crawled over to Harry and drove his wand through his ankle while aiming a curse at him. As a result, Harry had been distracted while he was fighting Voldermort. The wand had lodged in his ankle and shattered the bone. The curse had been released inside his body and caused irreparable damage to the muscles and tendons of his ankle and foot. Harry had managed to pull the wand out, but the damage had already been done.  
  
When Albus found Harry after the battle, he was unconscious on the ground. Dumbledore held Harry while he transported him to St Mungo's, so he wouldn't know about his limp. Well, that's one less thing to worry about anyway.  
  
Startling him out of his reverie, Minerva spoke the password to the Headmaster's quarters, "Peanut Brittle", and let him know that he should follow the stairs up and the Headmaster would be waiting for him at the door.  
  
Harry didn't really need this bit of advice. He knew perfectly well how to reach the Headmaster's office. After all, he had spent enough time up there during his days as a student, and then as a member of the Order of the Phoenix during the war.  
  
As Harry approached the door he could hear voices from inside the office.  
  
".You mistake my meaning Remus. I am not saying that at all. All I am saying is that we searched for years, Remus, years. It is seven years after the fact. Let it go. Harry is gone and we have no idea where he is. He has hidden himself extremely well."  
  
"But what if this one checks out to be true Albus. What if."  
  
"Why do you think this one will check out where all our other leads have lead to nothing? Remus. It's been seven years. We have done all we can. Harry doesn't want to be found. We should respect that. What brought this on Remus?"  
  
"It's his birthday today Albus. He'd be twenty-six. He'd be a young man now." The sound of sniffling could be heard coming from Albus' office.  
  
"I know Remus.I miss him too." Said Albus softly. "Go and get some rest. I'll come round later on in the evening, around dinner time. How's that. Right now, I'm expecting someone for an interview. For the position of professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts no less. Let's see if this one will last, shall we?"  
  
"You're right Albus. I will leave you to it. I'll expect you about seven then?"  
  
"Sounds lovely Remus." And with that Remus' head disappeared from the fireplace.  
  
Harry felt rude for having listened in to a private conversation but was shocked that people were still looking for him. He had expected them to search for a while but not for this long. He was thankful that he took the precautions that he did. He knew that Albus had an extensive network of muggle co-operatives who could track down something as simple as a name change. All they would have to do would be to run a check for any Harry Potters and from there it would be simple to discover him.  
  
As cunning as Albus was though, Harry prided himself on having outsmarted Albus on this account. He had arranged the necessary and legal paperwork but had arranged to have his name changed at a small registry where there would be only a small paper trail to follow. He subtly and skillfully obliviated the memory of the incident from the minds of all those who came into contact with the paperwork and had arranged for the papers to be delivered to the main Registrar's office himself so that he could ensure that no body was left with any memory of the event. He even went so far as to put a concealment charm on the paper. This way if anybody looked at it, it would show that Neville Black had changed his name to John Smith. However, if the original document was needed for any reason, Harry could always arrange to come down the main office himself and retrieve the document and remove the concealment charm for whatever purpose it was needed. He wasn't silly enough to destroy the original copy of a legal document after all. One of your better ideas Potter. It would even impress Snape. He thought to himself, which was a big deal considering that Snape was the spy of spies and was unbeatable in the game of cunning and intrigue.  
  
Did Albus say he missed me too? Ha! He missed having a powerful wizard around who could deal with things that might come up. Harry thought bitterly to himself. And that's right, he thought in surprise, it is my birthday today. I forgot all about it.  
  
It seemed to Harry that Albus suddenly stepped outside and greeted him. "Mr Green, young man, please come inside. Can I interest you in some tea? Crumpets? I'm sure you must be hungry."  
  
"No, thank you sir, and please, call me Jason."  
  
"Please, call me Albus. Have a seat won't you?"  
  
Harry limped over to the seat and settled himself comfortably. Albus was watching him carefully all the while though.  
  
"We have an excellent nurse on our staff Jason, would you like to have her look at your ankle? I'm sure it would be no trouble on her part." Offered Albus.  
  
"No, no. Thank you sir. It's just an old sporting injury. It's nothing to worry about. I don't even feel it any more. I only limp as it didn't heal properly in the first place. The way the muggle health system is and all.".  
  
Albus settled himself into a squashy chintz chair in his office and poured himself a cup of tea. As he sipped he said "I was very pleased to receive your application. What exactly do you do?"  
  
"I'm a chemist Albus, in muggle London. I own my own pharmacy in fact."  
  
"Do you enjoy what you do?"  
  
"Yes, very much."  
  
"Then.if you don't mind me asking.why would you want to change jobs?"  
  
Harry struggled for an answer as tears quickly stung his eyes. He grit his teeth together and tensed his jaw. He concentrated on regulating his breathing. There would be no breaking down here. It was an innocent question. Anyone would have asked it. It wasn't something Harry was anticipating though, and it caught him off guard.  
  
"Something came up.and I needed a change.things can start to become routine after a while. I was looking for a new challenge. " Harry was groping for a plausible answer and he hoped fervently that this would be enough.  
  
Albus continued to sip his tea. "Oh yes, I quite agree. I didn't think I would last so long as a headmaster, but I find that this job, and this school in particular, offer quite unique challenges. Something for everyone I'd say." He sipped more tea. "You are trained as a wizard?"  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"Where did you go to school Jason? I don't remember you being a student here."  
  
Harry was prepared for this. He had spent the duration of the walk from Hogsmeade to the school rehearsing answers to these sorts of questions in his head.  
  
"Well, I was schooled down south in a small school. There were only about 30 of us and it wasn't a school per se but a small group of people with a wizard who oversaw our education. I assure you that I am fully qualified to teach the subject though. In fact, I'd be happy for you to test my suitability if you feel you need to."  
  
"I don't think that will be necessary Jason. You say you were educated in the south."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But your accent sounds as though it came from London."  
  
"Yes. I was born here but was moved to the south at a very young age. I only returned a while ago and as you can see, I haven't lost my accent. Or maybe I did but re-acquired it. British accents are quite strong and quite catching, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
Boy, thought Harry, that sounded lamer than lame. I've worn woolly jumpers that were less woolly than that story. Well, he doesn't look like he doesn't believe me but with Albus, you never really know.  
  
"Well said. I am a big fan of muggle entertainment myself and I seem to recall a fetching young artist, Miss Kylie Minogiue. My niece is a big fan of hers. I understand that she is Australian but now sounds more British now than Australian. Personally, I think that is as it should be. I see your point."  
  
Whew, thought Harry. He laughed out loud with Albus at this. "Can I offer you another cup of tea?" asked Albus.  
  
Harry had just notice that he had been so nervous that he'd finished off his tea and was attempting to sip from an empty cup. "Yes please Albus."  
  
Harry reached for the cup that was offered to him and managed to knock the cup sending the tea all over the carpet in Albus' office.  
  
"Albus, I'm so sorry. I'll just." Shit, shit, shit.  
  
Albus chuckled. "Don't worry my boy." And with a wave of his wand the stain disappeared. He poured Harry a fresh cup and this time Harry concentrated and reached for it successfully.  
  
"What sort of things would you be teaching this year Jason?"  
  
Harry was surprised at this. "Don't you need to see references or past experience before offering me the job Albus?"  
  
"No, I don't think that will be necessary Jason."  
  
"You know nothing about me. I could be the next you-know-who for all you know."  
  
Albus chuckled at this. What would have happened if I hadn't offered him the job? He silently wondered. Out loud he said "I'm sure you're not Jason. If you were, Fawkes would not have let you spend time in my company. You see, phoenix's are extremely loyal. And he's an excellent judge of character. So, what would you be teaching Jason?"  
  
Harry sat nursing his fresh cup of tea. "Well, I don't know what they've covered so far, but I thought that I'd start by teaching them how to defend themselves properly. Then we'd move onto the more common hexes and counter curses. I thought they'd benefit from a thorough grounding in both the theory and the practice. Then -."  
  
"Why is that?" Albus inquired.  
  
"Well, the more they understand about how the spell works, the more they'll understand the ways to effectively block it. They won't simply be rote- learning the words of the curse and counter curse. They'll have an understanding and they'll be able to use this where they may have forgotten what the particular words of the counter curse were."  
  
"That's very sound thinking. Please continue."  
  
"To be honest, I hadn't really thought about it beyond that. I only really saw the ad yesterday and applied then. I'd have to look at a few books and see what the students have been taught before I could come to a decision."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Harry and Albus spent the next two hours chatting about inconsequential things like their favourite muggle candies and the differences and similarities between wizarding life and muggle life.  
  
"Well Jason, our first staff meeting is the Monday after next. School starts on the Monday two weeks after that, September the 1st. Welcome to the staff. Now, we'll move you into your quarters in the school next Monday in the morning at about 9:00. The staff meeting is at 12:00 so you'll have some time to get settled before the meeting. We'll just be discussing things like class syllabus but you don't need to have every class planned out, just a flexible outline of what you plan to do will be fine. We'll see you then."  
  
Albus led Harry to the staircase outside his office and watched as Harry descended the stairs, with one of his hands always on the wall, as though he were feeling where he was going. Strange, but then I'm hardly one to talk I guess. With that he shut the door and thought about what he'd like for lunch.  
  
Harry slowly made his way down the spiraling staircase. He could hardly see how many steps there were and he was holding onto the side wall because he didn't fancy falling down the stairs and breaking his neck.  
  
"Jason, how did it go?"  
  
"I got the job Minerva. I'll be joining you on staff."  
  
"My congratulations to you Dear." She cried enthusiastically as she lead him outside the castle. I'll see you at the staff meeting then. Just remember to - Ah, Professor Snape."  
  
"Professor McGonagall. And who is our guest?"  
  
"This is Jason Green. Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."  
  
Harry nodded his head in acknowledgement. He couldn't see Professor Snape pale at the last comment but he noticed a definite tension and chill in the air as the Professor stalked off in the direction of the Headmaster's Office muttering things like ".another idiot Professor. He wouldn't have these problems if he would let me teach the class."  
  
Harry had almost forgotten that Professor Snape had been applying for the position since as far back as he could remember. He idly wondered why it was that he was never given the position. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on following Minerva without falling over a crack in the stone and falling on his face.  
  
"Yes well, Jason, here we are then. I will see you at the staff meeting."  
  
After he had walked a little way away from the castle, Harry took his contact lenses out and put his glasses back on. He had a shocking headache from using the wrong prescription all morning. If he could keep his story straight in his head this year it would be a miracle. Let's see.I was Harry Potter, pretending to be Jason Green. Now I'm Harry Potter pretending to be Jason Green pretending not to be Harry Potter.I've got a headache. he thought to himself as he made his way back to Hogsmeade and then apparated back home.  
  
At his flat he found the Panadeine and settled back into the sofa. As he let the codeine settle into his system he could almost hear Greg whispering to him "Sleep tired one. I'll be here when you wake up." He could almost feel a soft hand stroking his aching forehead and he could almost feel the ghost of a kiss on his temple." Harry fell asleep with the tears soaking the cushion his head was resting on. 


	4. chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, they, and the whole concept of Harry Potter, belong to the talented Ms Rowlings. Only the plot is my own.  
  
Thank you to everyone who reviewed the story. A big thank you to my beta reader (I may have to promote her to "editor" as her attention to detail and her encouragement are fantastic). Your efforts are greatly appreciated.  
  
I am working on getting FFnet to get the italics into the text. Until I get on top of it, thoughts will be in asterisks, * like so *.  
  
NB: One of my reviewers has observed that my author page won't accept anonymous reviewers. I've corrected that now so if anybody would like to review anonymously I'd love to hear from you. I really really would.  
  
Annephoenix: The confusion will be addressed in Chapter 6. Couldn't convincingly address it any earlier.  
  
CHAPTER 4  
  
It was the day before Harry was supposed to move into Hogwarts, and it was about 4:00 in the afternoon when he finally returned to his flat. The flat was almost empty now. He had sold most of the furniture and had just returned from helping to deliver the last of it to the warehouse that had bought it. The only items of furniture he could not bring himself to sell were the two armchairs which he and his lover would sit in after dinner to unwind and relax after a long day. Greg had bought them as a gift for Harry when he moved into the flat and they were irreplaceable.  
  
Harry sat down in his armchair (he'd never sit in Greg's) and rubbed his aching muscles. Harry had been in peak physical condition during days when he had been taken to train for the battle between himself and Voldemort. He had continued to keep himself in good physical condition after his departure from the wizarding world, but even he had to admit to himself that he was going to be sore for a few days. He had woken early to help the men from the warehouse to transport away most of the furniture. He could easily have moved the furniture using magic, but the strenuous exercise and genuine pain of aching muscles was a good distraction for Harry. He needed the distraction that hard work and the company of workmen had provided him.  
  
It had been two weeks and he still couldn't put a proper lid on his grief. He reasoned that this was not unusual. He and his partner had been together for about seven years. Two weeks was just too soon to put something like that behind him. Besides, he'd been more or less completely on his own for just about the whole time since his lover had passed on. He had been with Greg's parents for the funeral but had chosen to isolate himself from all company since then. Perhaps he might be able to make some real progress in getting a handle on his grief once he started teaching and throwing himself into the task of preparing his classes and teaching his students. He'd be in a new environment, facing new challenges.  
  
Harry pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the bedroom. He had booked a room for the night at an inn in Hogsmeade and had only to pack up the clothes in the bedroom before he could check in for the evening. He had tried to do this a week ago, but couldn't. Now there could be no more excuses. He had to do this so he could leave this flat and move on.  
  
He took a deep breath and opened the door to the wardrobe. He reached out a hand to gently stroke the clothes on Greg's side of the wardrobe. Harry started pulling his shirts and pants off their hangers but stopped after only a short time. He raised one of the shirts to his face and inhaled deeply. He could still smell his musky cologne on the shirt. He looked at the clothes and smiled to himself. He had never met anybody with as wide a taste in clothing as Greg. He wore everything from jeans and t-shirts, to exercise shorts and tank tops, to dress shirts and trousers, to fashionable tight leather clothing. He remembered being shocked when Greg first moved in at the number, and variety, of clothes he owned. He remembered helping him to hang all of his clothes up on hangers.  
  
"How do you find the time, or the occasion, to wear all of these?"  
  
"Well, I obviously don't wear them all at once, but stick around babe and I'll show you how I wear all of these." Greg replied with a sexy smile.  
  
Harry was a sucker for that smile. He dropped the shirt he was preparing to hang up and pinned his lover up against the cupboard door, kissing him thoroughly and grinding their bodies together. They didn't get much unpacking done after that.  
  
Harry cleared his head and looked at the time. He had to get a move on if he was going to be at the inn in time for the evening check in. He couldn't bring himself to give away Greg's clothes. He'd sooner cut off his right arm. So he carefully folded them and packed them into his travelling bags. He'd be taking them with him. Once that difficult task was over, it took him little enough time to fold his own clothes into his own travelling bags. He took a final look around the bare room. Shadows of Greg were everywhere, and they were particularly strong in this room.  
  
An ache filled him. He needed his lover, his partner, his other half. An idea occurred to him. He opened Greg's bags and pulled out a long sleeved blue cotton shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He then pulled out a pair of socks and joggers. They were both of a similar build - light and lean but well toned - but Harry was a few inches shorter.  
  
He pulled off his clothes and reached for the shirt. As he did this, he caught his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. He normally didn't really pay attention to himself in the mirror, after all, he knew what he looked like and he didn't particularly like what he saw in the mirror anyway. This time though, shirt in hand, he approached his reflection. Muscles rippled beneath his skin as he moved toward the mirror and reached out his hand to touch the image.  
  
"Scars. So many scars. From too many battles." Harry recalled the first time Greg had seen those scars. They had just returned from an intimate dinner and, on impulse, Harry had invited him back to the flat.  
  
They kissed deeply and hungrily as Harry pushed Greg backwards through the flat and toward the bedroom. His soon-to-be-lover's hands untucked Harry's shirt from his trousers and he pulled it up and over his head, tossing it across the room. He paused to really look at Harry. Harry's heart thudded uncomfortably in his throat. * Oh God, please don't tell me he's going to run away! * Harry thought desperately to himself. But Greg didn't take his hands off Harry for a single moment.  
  
"How did you get all of these scars Jason? Pharmacology isn't that tough, is it?"  
  
Harry wasn't expecting him to see his scars this evening so he was caught unprepared. He tried to think quickly, but his brain wasn't functioning too well at that moment. Something to do with hormones.  
  
"I was in a car accident a couple of years ago."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"It was just my friend and me in the car. My friend was driving. A car swerved to our side of the road. I don't remember too much. I remember there was lots of yelling and big bright headlights. And then I remember waking up in hospital a week later. My friend died, and everyone in the other car died as well. I was lucky."  
  
"A car accident?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Scarring front and back?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Must have been one hell of an accident."  
  
"It was."  
  
Greg and Harry picked up where they left off after that.  
  
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Harry shrugged himself into Greg's clothes. He rolled the sleeves of the shirt up twice and did the same to the legs of the jeans. * Not too bad * he thought to himself. He felt oddly comforted now and it seemed to give him an energy he'd been missing for the last two weeks. He shrank his luggage and the two chairs and apparated to his inn where he was shown to a small room that would be his for the night.  
  
"I'll have some dinner waiting for you downstairs Sir. Is that okay, or would you rather I bring it up here?" asked the young employee.  
  
Harry hadn't really been eating regularly for about a fortnight now, but he found that he was really quite hungry today. * Probably because of all that work I did today with the furniture * he thought to himself.  
  
"I'll follow you down" he replied as he put his shrunken luggage into one of the bedside drawers. He'd deal with them later.  
  
*****  
  
Dinner was uneventful and Harry spent a quiet evening engaged in idle chatter with the other patrons of the inn. He had thought briefly about eating in his room, but he'd been out of touch with this world for seven years and he hoped he'd be able to learn some information about how everything had been since he'd left. About all Harry managed to find out was that after Voldemort's defeat, things had more or less been peaceful. There had been rumours of attempts to regather a dark force to rally against the light, and every time a crime was committed these rumours seemed to surface. People were still edgy. They had not known peace for such a long time that they were immediately willing to assume the worst. * Can't say I blame them really. Best to be over cautious rather than under cautious. *  
  
Harry also managed to learn that the Chudley Cannons had taken the Quidditch Cup the last three years running. * That'll make Ron happy * Harry mused to himself. He felt a pang of guilt. He wondered what had happened to Ron and Hermione. He'd always regretted leaving them without saying goodbye, but he knew that if he had tried to say good bye to them they would never have let him leave.  
  
As evening turned into night, Harry trudged back to his rooms and searched for his sleeping pills out of habit. He swallowed them with a glass of water. He was barely coping during the day. He didn't feel up to trying to cope with his grief in his dreams as well, not just yet, anyway. The sleeping pills drove away his dreams and nightmares. * It's only until I get back on my feet * he silently told himself as he fell asleep on top of the bed.  
  
*****  
  
"I hope these rooms are to your liking Jason. Feel free to arrange the rooms as you please and to change the décor if you wish."  
  
"Minerva, the rooms are lovely. Thank you." The rooms were really quite lovely and already well furnished. There was a large living room which showcased a lovely big fireplace A well stocked kitchenette area adjoined the living room. There was a spacious bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. There was also a room off to the side of the living room which Minerva told him was a study, but could be used as whatever Harry wanted it to be.  
  
"I'll leave you to it then. I'll be back at about quarter to twelve to show you where the staff meeting will be held." And she shut the door silently behind her, leaving Harry staring at his suite, wondering what to do and where to start.  
  
The only problem with his suite was that the walls were painted in green and silver and the furniture matched those colours. The last person who stayed in the room had to have been a Slytherin. That had to be changed. Harry concentrated and wove his magic, letting the rooms know that blue was a much nicer colour. The rooms responded to his intent and soon the rooms, and the furniture, were decorated in varying shades of blue, one of his favourite colours.  
  
Once that was taken care of, Harry moved to the bedroom to begin unpacking, which didn't really take as long as he would have expected, considering how difficult he had found it to pack up the flat. He did however have a moment of uncertainty as he held a framed photograph of he and his lover. He decided to put the photograph into the top drawer of the chest of drawers next to the bed. When he was coping a little better, he'd take it out of the drawer and stand it on top of the chest of drawers. Right now, it would be too painful for him.  
  
He noticed he was still wearing the clothes from the evening before and decided that he didn't really need to change them. After all, no one here knew that he'd slept in these clothes and he'd only be seeing the staff briefly at the staff meeting today anyway.  
  
The bathroom was the next place that Harry decided to set up. As a chemist, he always had a well stocked medicine cabinet. After setting unpacking everything that belonged in the bathroom though, he realised that he was running very low on headache medication and sleeping tablets. He'd have to take a trip into London to pick up some more. As a chemist, the only medication he took that he didn't have a hand in making himself was the Panadeine headache tablets. He always preferred to mix his own medicines as he could tailor the medication to his own specific body and needs. Idly he thought to himself that since he was here he could actually mix up some potions of his own that would serve his purposes. He had had a very good grounding in the study and practice of potions during the years that he spent training for his battle against Voldemort. His trainers had told him that this was an invaluable field of study as he could make his own poisons, antidotes, serums, medications, healing balms and much more. As a potions student under Professor Snape, Harry had been indifferent at best. Under Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the Ministry Aurors engaged to train him, he had excelled in the study. This ultimately led to his pursuit of a career in pharmacology when he left the wizarding world.  
  
But he felt more comfortable with the idea of taking muggle medication though and, for the time being at least, he resolved to stick with them. * This is just until I get back on my feet. I won't need them after that. *  
  
After modifying the study so that it could easily accommodate the needs of a professor who would be doing research, making lesson plans and grading papers, as well as the needs of a pharmacologist and a potions maker, he found he had some time left before Minerva would be looking for him. He decided that he may as well have some breakfast while he waited. He picked up one of Greg's suitcases and made his way to the kitchen. After Harry had returned from identifying his lover's body, he had tried to make himself a cup of coffee but he found that he couldn't do anything in the kitchen with the "tools of Greg's trade" staring at him from all corners. So he had packed the cooking things into one of his suitcases and stored it away to take with him when he moved. They had travelled with him to Hogwarts and Harry carefully put them all away in the kitchenette area of his suite before he set about making some toast and coffee.  
  
*****  
  
Harry already knew his way around Hogwarts very well, but he allowed himself to be guided by Minerva who pointed out different rooms and passages to him while he nodded and made the appropriate polite inquiries. She was setting an annoying slow pace and this stemmed from her unnecessary concern over his permanent limp. No amount of hinting that she could move faster seemed to hurry her pace at all. In fact, she pointed out that she walked at this pace the last time she had guided him through the school and he didn't complain then. That was true, but he had also been groping along half blind from trying to use Greg's contact lenses. He had since been to the optometrist and had several sets of coloured contact lenses made up with his prescription so he could see perfectly well this time around. He still kept Greg's contacts in one of his bedside drawers though. Sighing, Harry resigned himself to the concern of the Deputy Headmistress.  
  
"And here is the staff common room. The staff may use this room whenever they wish. We also use this room for staff meetings, so here we are. Let me introduce you to everyone."  
  
And so began the long round of introductions. He knew a number of the professors already, as they had been his professors when he was a student. There were some new additions to the staff though and Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he was introduced to Hermione Weasley, the Arithmancy professor, and Ron Weasley, the Muggle Studies professor. * I don't know what you're so surprised about, Hermione was either going into research or teaching. But what's Ron doing here? And they're married. Gosh. How much have I missed? * Harry thought to himself. He mentally thanked the gruelling training that he had endured when he was younger that allowed him to appear outwardly calm in the face of such a shock though. He mouthed the appropriate "Pleased to meet you" phrases and was quickly ushered to a seat as the meeting was about to begin. He ended up sitting next to Professor Snape. * Half my bloody luck * he mentally cursed himself.  
  
He listened while Albus made some comments about renovations being made to the castle and modifications being made to the security and defence systems around the case. When Albus formally introduced him to the staff in the room as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Snape could not help but interrupt and request a word with the Headmaster. "Can this wait Severus?"  
  
"No Headmaster, I don't think it can."  
  
"Please, talk amongst yourselves for a few minutes." Sighed Albus as he and Professor Snape drew themselves to one side of the room. They conducted their conversation in hushed voices. Even so, Professor Snape was gesturing with his hands and would glance or gesture toward Harry every now and then during their conversation. Harry had some skill with reading lips. It was a very handy skill to have during the war. He had been unlucky enough to have been caught and tortured for information on a couple of occasions. His hearing was often affected by the pain inflicted on him, or else distracted by the noise around him. This handy little skill often let him know what the people around him were saying, when they were foolish enough to speak to each other where he could still see them. Also, on a battlefield where there is noise all around it is sometimes difficult to hear what your comrades are trying to say to you. This reduced the need for unnecessary yelling during a battle where the person was unable to use their customised sign language. Harry smiled privately.  
  
"With all due respect Albus, you have hired a complete unknown. I've made some inquiries of my own and nobody in the wizarding world has ever heard of 'Jason Green'. Don't you think that a man who has made an effort to achieve secrecy might have done so for a sinister purpose? Do you think it wise to hire someone like that?"  
  
"We have had this conversation before Severus. You needn't have interrupted the meeting to have it again. Many of us have secrets, but it does not necessarily make us untrustworthy." Albus directed a piercing gaze at the potions master who had the good grace to look ashamed at the statement. Professor Snape returned to his seat, apparently silenced by Albus, but Harry knew that the Professor was not one to give up so easily when he had a point to make.  
  
Albus resumed the meeting. "Perhaps now would be a good time to begin discussing our subject syllabuses for the year."  
  
Harry listened quietly to the other Professors while they discussed their plans for their classes this year. Most of them just said that they would be sticking with the syllabus they had been using for the last however many years they had been teaching for. Professor Snape, on the other hand, would be changing the syllabus.  
  
"He changes his syllabus every year" Minerva whispered to Harry from her seat in front of him. "He keeps up with an enormous amount of research and experimentation and he changes his course all the time. It's embarrassing actually because the rest of us should really do the same thing but quite frankly, I just don't have the energy to do it." Minerva whispered in awe and respect. "If you ever tell him I said that I'll deny everything though ." She added as an aside. Harry stifled a laugh and listened as Professor Snape finished his presentation.  
  
"If you keep working yourself this hard Severus I'm afraid we'll lose you before your time. Right now Jason, what have you decided to do?"  
  
"To be honest Albus, I haven't really planned for anything beyond what I explained in your office. I thought now that I was more conveniently situated, I'd do some leg work, speak to some people about Defence and try and find suitable texts for the class this week and plan from there.  
  
"Do you have particular people in mind, whom you wish to speak to?" asked Professor Snape coldly.  
  
"No, I thought I'd make a few inquiries and find out who the best people to speak to would be."  
  
"Please choose your contacts carefully. There are many people out there whom we know nothing about, or whose identities are surrounded by dubious and highly suspicious circumstances. As such, it would be unwise to trust them, as I'm sure you'll agree." Stated Professor Snape while giving Harry a knowing glare.  
  
Harry met the glare and held it. Without breaking the eye contact he said "Does it really bother you that you don't know very much about me Professor? Why is it so important that I make public every last detail about myself?"  
  
"Enough Severus. I am sorry Jason. I want you to know that you would not be sitting in this room at this moment if I thought to you be a threat to my staff and students." Harry and Professor Snape turned their attention toward the Headmaster.  
  
"That's quite alright Albus. I don't blame the Professor for being cautious. I would feel the same way if I were in his seat. After all, history has taught us very well that people aren't always who they appear to be, and we'd be fools not to listen to the teachings of history, wouldn't we?" It was an innocent enough statement but it evoked a range of silent reactions from the staff. Professor Snape's role as a spy for the light had been kept a secret from the public for the safety and protection of the Professor. Those in the room who knew of the Professor's double life wondered briefly if that statement was directed at him. That was an absurd notion though, wasn't it? This new acquaintance could not possibly know of his secret. Professor Snape was not as quick to dismiss the comment though. He studied Jason through narrow eyes. * What could he have meant by that? * The Professor wondered. * Hmmm... *  
  
Harry silently congratulated himself on his small victory. He had meant the statement to be a slap in the face to the Professor. * He can't talk. He was a bloody Death Eater for goodness' sake until he switched sides. He's presenting so many faces to the world I'm surprised he can keep them all straight in his head! On the other hand, I don't think I'm in any position to start preaching about the hypocrisy of pretending to be someone that I'm not. *  
  
He turned to find Albus giving him a very piercing gaze. He looked right into those eyes with his artificial dark brown ones and blinked innocently. "I just meant that the war with "you-know-who" taught us all some pretty valuable lessons, didn't it?"  
  
"Yes, yes it did. Did you have anything else planned for your classes, Jason?" asked Albus after a pause, as he hurried to steer the conversation away from the awkward topic that had arisen.  
  
"Not really Albus. I still plan to find out what level the students are up to though and I still plan to teach them how to defend themselves properly before I do anything else. If they can't defend themselves properly, I expect that there'll be a lot of nasty accidents in classes-"  
  
"And you are qualified to be able to teach that?" interrupted Professor Snape.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" asked Harry.  
  
"Perhaps the question was impertinent, but I know that you have no experience as a teacher and you come with no references to support yourself. If you cannot teach these students properly you will only be doing them more harm than good."  
  
Several members of staff raised their eyebrows at the comment. Albus just shook his head slowly. Harry wasn't particularly shocked though. He knew enough about the nature of his Potions Master to have expected him to say something like this. * I'm better than you could possibly imagine you slimy bat, * thought Harry to himself, but he simply said "I have never found my skills to be inadequate Professor."  
  
"And yet you have no credentials with which to recommend yourself?"  
  
* I got rid of Voldemort you greasy sod, how's that for credentials? * Harry silently bragged, however, he replied "Nothing in writing, Professor".  
  
"That could mean anything."  
  
"I guess it could."  
  
"Just how skilled are you?"  
  
"Severus, please. I must ask that you cease this behaviour at once." Commanded Albus. "Jason, I apologise for the rudeness."  
  
"Albus, I can tell that the Professor is a cautious man. His concern for the well being of his students is commendable." Harry paused to stifle the laugh that was at the back of his throat. Once he was sure he would be able to speak without laughing, he turned to Professor Snape and said:  
  
"That depends on what, or who, you compare me to."  
  
"As compared to me then, or anyone in this room."  
  
"I have no idea. I met you for the first time two weeks ago after my interview with the Headmaster, and I only met most of the people in this room today."  
  
Professor Snape paused.  
  
"Where were you educated?"  
  
"I assume you are asking where I received my wizarding education. I was educated down south in a small school."  
  
"So you didn't receive much of an education then?"  
  
"If you're assuming that only people who are educated at Hogwarts are educated properly, then you'd be sadly mistaken Professor. I don't feel that my education lacked anything, as you'll see when I begin teaching my classes."  
  
"Can you defend yourself?"  
  
"Of course. Why, were you planning to hex me?"  
  
Snape ignored the question. "Have you had experience in battle?"  
  
Harry paused. "The time of Voldemort was a dark time for all of us. I think you would be hard pressed, Professor, to find any adult witch or wizard who was not involved with the battle against the dark in one way or another."  
  
Harry knew that he was being deliberately vague and that it would probably make the other professors think he had something to hide he didn't care. He just wanted to put Snape in his place. * We're on equal footing now Professor, after all, we're both professors in our field aren't we? * Harry managed to rationalise his behaviour to himself by telling himself that the other Professors were probably already suspicious, no doubt having heard that he had no references or credentials or even background to recommend his skills or his loyalty. His behaviour today wouldn't have revealed his secret.  
  
"Severus, I must ask you to show some courtesy and respect to a fellow professor. I am sure he will serve us very well. I have a good feeling about this young man, and I'm not often wrong about this sort of thing, am I?" A private glance was shared between Albus and Severus, and then the Professor ceased his line of questioning.  
  
"I think you'll find that you and Professor Green have much in common. You see, he was a chemist in muggle London and owned his own pharmacy." Turning to Harry, Albus continued, "That is an interesting career choice Jason. Have you always had a love of pharmacology?"  
  
"I originally began studying medicine at uni, but I switched to pharmacology soon after that."  
  
"Why on earth? Wouldn't it have been rewarding to be involved in the saving of lives." Minerva commented.  
  
* I was already intimately involved with the pressure of saving lives, remember Minerva? I was the champion of wizards, I was supposed to save everybody from the dark. I was supposed to save everybody's lives. I didn't save nearly as many people as I should have though. I didn't want to be responsible for any more deaths! I'd had enough. * Harry privately thought to himself.  
  
"Pharmacology allowed me more concrete working hours than medicine ever would, and the mixing of medicines can be just as rewarding and can save just as many lives. I prefer to work behind the scenes. I don't like being at the forefront. Just too much pressure I think."  
  
"Severus, isn't pharmacology similar to the study of potions?" asked Albus, politely, more to ease the tension in the room than for any real interest in the answer.  
  
"The study of potions is far more subtle than the muggle study of pharmacology. Pharmacology requires that the chemist mix together a set of ingredients. Potions requires as much study of technique as of ingredients."  
  
* You pompous git! * Mused Harry.  
  
"As you are the expert in this area, I shall defer to your judgment Professor." Said Harry congenially as Albus shook his head in exasperation.  
  
"Right, I think we should take a five minute break. I'll be right back."  
  
Harry looked around the room as people began getting up and moving around. Harry was quite happy to stay exactly where he was, and so, apparently, was Professor Snape. He stretched in his seat and extended his legs to put his feet up on one the back of one of the seats in front of him.  
  
"Didn't your parents ever teach you that it's bad manners to put your feet up on the furniture?" asked Professor Snape coldly.  
  
"My parents died when I was younger and so I'm sure a gentleman such as yourself would be polite enough to excuse the fact that I have a few rough edges. If, however, I offend your sensibilities then I suggest that you move to another part of the room where you can't see me." Answered Harry just as coldly. An onslaught of painful memories, the only memories he actually had of his parents, erupted within Harry:  
  
* "Lily, he's here. Take Harry and run. I'll hold him off." Cried James Potter. *  
  
* "Please not Harry, not Harry. Kill me instead." Screamed a young Lily Potter as she shielded her baby from the dark wizard before her. *  
  
* A high pitched and cold voice called out "Avada Kedavra!" and then laughed cruelly as Lily screamed. A flash of bright green light ended his mother's life. *  
  
-----  
  
Emotions surfaced which he hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't as though he had forgotten his parents, or had forgotten the pain associated with their deaths and never having a chance to know them, but his life with his lover had helped to ease the loneliness he had felt. Now, without Greg, the loss of his parents reminded him all too keenly that he was alone. That just about everybody he had loved had died. It seemed that he was destined to be utterly alone.  
  
Harry was fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over from the fresh wave of pain. He got up out of his seat and left the room. He walked a small distance down the hall and hid inside an alcove. He took deep, steadying breaths in an effort to calm himself. Once he felt in control again (or as close to it as he had been these past couple of weeks) he walked back to the room and re-claimed his seat in time for the meeting to begin again. He couldn't help but notice that Professor Snape would occasionally glance at him and give him odd looks. Harry wished that he'd just leave him alone and look elsewhere. * Snape is all alone. I wonder if I'll end up like him when I'm older. There's something to look forward to. *  
  
The meeting finally ended and Harry sought out the sanctuary of his own rooms.  
  
*****  
  
Harry had arrived at Hogsmeade early that morning so that he could use the library. He had decided that he would choose what texts he would use for his classes as soon as possible so that he could begin planning his classes. After all, school started in two weeks and he had no idea what he was going to do.  
  
He had discovered that there had been many books written on the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts. He spent the next three days in the library seemingly devouring the books. Some were good, many just simply said the same thing. One of the most interesting books he found was a study into the nature of the unforgivable curses. Not really an appropriate text to recommend for purchase, but he made a note to have a copy purchased for the school library. Though he had decided on the texts to be used, he didn't find a single book that seemed to suit his needs for the class. All the books seemed to be lacking in something. They seemed to be adequate when dealing with the theory of the curse but often did not delve enough into the origins and the workings of the curse to give the reader a proper understanding. Most of the books did not even describe the effects of the curse adequately. He briefly entertained the idea of writing a Defence Against the Dark Arts Book, after all, he certainly was an authority on the subject....  
  
Harry had forgotten how busy Diagon Alley was at this time of the year. He quickly ducked into Flourish and Blotts to let them know what texts to order in for his students before spending the rest of the day browsing in the shops. He had plenty of money on him so when he ended up in "The Little Potions Shoppe" he couldn't stop himself purchasing a few of the potions required for basic headache cures and sleeping draughts. He had to speak very firmly with himself to talk himself out of buying the newest model broom available on the market. He still had the Firebolt Sirius had given him which had always served him well. It would do just fine. After all, he wasn't going to be playing any competition sport on it, in fact, he'd probably barely be using it. It had been quite a while since he had flown. He had learned to drive since setting himself up in Muggle London and had swapped his fascination with brooms for a love of cars instead. He had sold his car before returning to Hogwarts, telling himself that he could easily buy another one when he returned. Still, he missed his little Astin Minor.  
  
All in all, it was a tired Harry who fell asleep in his armchair that night as he was thinking about Greg. He planned to go into Muggle London to do a bit of shopping the next day before really settling down to plan his lessons.  
  
*****  
  
Harry was greeted at his pharmacy by many friendly cries of "Hi Jason!".  
  
"Hi Jason, what brings you back here?" asked Tony, Harry's friend from uni. Harry and Tony worked together and Harry had left him in charge while he was on leave for the year.  
  
"Hey Tony, I just wanted to mix up a few painkillers for myself."  
  
"Within legal limits Jason, I don't want to get into any sort of trouble."  
  
"Never Tony!" Harry and Tony went out the back where Harry began to pull together the ingredients for the headache tablets and sleeping tablets he'd been running low on. Tony looked at Harry for along time before quietly asking "How are you really Jason, and don't lie, I can see it in your eyes, I just want you to tell me if I'm seeing it right."  
  
"It's hard Tony. Really hard. It's like I just lost a really big part of me and my whole body is still aching and trying to shift itself around trying to ease the ache but nothing seems to be working. I'll be fine, I just need some time away I think."  
  
"Yeah, I think you do. But just be careful. I know what you're making there. Just don't let those pills become your best friends, alright? I know you're not stupid Jason, I just needed to say it, that's all."  
  
"Thanks Tony. I won't. It's just for right now. I won't let it become more than that. I know what it could do to me."  
  
They worked together in companionable silence after that, stopping only talk of inconsequential matters like soccer scores and England's chances of winning the cricket match against Zimbabwe.  
  
"Oh yeah, before you leave, that sports shop rang up. Your stuff is in. What did you order in anyway?"  
  
"Exercise equipment. A home gym Tony. I'm going to be bigger and more buff than ever before, just you wait."  
  
"You don't need toning up anymore. You're pretty buff as you are. If I were that way inclined, you'd be in danger of having me chase after you."  
  
Harry laughed. Tony had always been fantastic about the fact that he was gay. If anything, he seemed really proud to have a gay friend. "Don't worry Tony, I iam/i that way inclined and you very nearly were in danger of having me chase after you."  
  
"I'm touched. See you 'round. Don't be a stranger o.k?"  
  
Harry was initially very concerned when he learned that in order to join a wizard gym you were required to register your magical signature, which would be kept for the purposes of identifying the patron. This replaced the use for the little plastic cards that muggles dealt with and kept losing all the time. Hell no thought Harry. * I'd be doomed. They'll know who I am for sure. My concealment charms are good, but they're not that good. * With that in mind, Harry had contacted a shop that sold sporting equipment and was conveniently a short distance from his own pharmacy and ordered a home gym ensemble in for himself. Money was no object. He earned a pretty decent living as a chemist and he still had a tidy fortune in Gringotts.  
  
He paused to admire the equipment before paying the store owner for it. He loved exercising. It had become more than just an idle habit for him from the time he was fifteen. On the pretense of transporting the items to his car he borrowed a wheeled trolley from the store owner and took the equipment around the corner to a fairly well deserted street. There he apparated with the equipment back to Hogsmeade and dragged the equipment back to Hogwarts. When he had the equipment set up in a corner of his living room, he briefly wondered whether the shop owner would miss his trolley. He decided he'd return it when he went back that way. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He hadn't been to the gym in a few days now and he wanted to start working out again. Eager to get started, he stripped off the shirt he was wearing and began to work.  
  
*****  
  
Harry seated himself on the end of the staff table The professors customarily seated themselves at the staff table before the students arrive so they were in a position to "receive" the students. Harry had specifically asked for an end seat. He didn't like to feel like he couldn't leave in a hurry. He hated feeling hemmed in. He could have maintained that that was a symptom of his annoying agoraphobia, but common sense told him that this was a residue of his overly trained body. He was trained to be cautious and to always leave an escape route open to him wherever he may be. He could still remember the Aurors who trained him so many years ago repeatedly saying:  
  
"Just because a situation doesn't look threatening doesn't mean that it can't be. The most innocent of situations can quickly deteriorate. People, as a rule, are unpredictable, so learn to expect the unexpected."  
  
* Yes sir, * he mentally saluted. He swore by this rule to this very day. No one could every accuse him of letting his guard down, even in a school full of children.  
  
One of the advantages of this situation was that Professor Snape also customarily sat on the end of the table. This meant that he was all the way up the other end of the staff table, as far away from Harry as possible. On the down side, he was sitting right next to Hermione, who was sitting right next to Ron. As Hermione and Ron walked into the Great Hall together, they did the strangest thing. They walked to a large plaque situated on the wall behind Albus' seat. Hermione kissed two of her fingers and then gently laid those fingers on the plaque, effectively laying a kiss onto the plaque. Ron gently lay a hand on the plaque. They then turned around and made their way to their seats. Hermione noticed Jason watching them.  
  
"I know it looks strange, but it really isn't. Have you seen the plaque?"  
  
"No, I haven't."  
  
"Go and have a look. You won't be sorry. I promise."  
  
Harry pushed his seat back and limped over to have a look. He gasped, and it was a good thing that no one was near enough to him to hear him do it. The plaque was dedicated to him. It read:  
  
"In loving dedication to Harry Potter, a shining example of courage, strength and bravery. Through his light we honour the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity."  
  
In smaller letters near the bottom of the plaque were the words:  
  
"A small ray of light can push away the darkest cloud".  
  
* A plaque? How bizarre. It was a nice gesture I guess, but it's not really me is it? * It was only then that he saw engraved in scratchy letters, as though someone had taken a pair of scissors to the plaque "Our greatest hero, and our greatest friend. We miss you Harry, Love Ron & Hermione." * Oh my gosh. I miss you too guys * he thought. 


	5. chapter 5

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the whole concept of Harry Potter. They belong to the talented Ms Rowling. Thank you to everybody who reviewed and a big thank you to my beta reader. Your efforts are greatly appreciated.  J

NB: Bear with me, this is not only going to be a general romance story but there will be action coming up fairly shortly.  

I was asked if I could estimate how long this story will be. I'm not really sure, but I think between 10 and 15 chapters. I really haven't thought that far ahead yet. 

A universal question: I have referred to Harry's 'agoraphobia'. I'm referring to his fear of feeling suffocated in social situations, and the feeling of being hemmed in when he's surrounded by lots of people. Have I used the wrong term, and if I have, can anyone tell me the correct term to use?

CHAPTER 5

_A plaque?__ How bizarre. It was a nice gesture I guess, but it's not really me is it? At least they didn't throw a bloody parade for me. Can't do that if I'm not there, right?_ It was only then that he saw engraved in scratchy letters, as though someone had taken a pair of scissors to the plaque "Our greatest hero, and our greatest friend. We miss you Harry- Love, Ron & Hermione."  _Oh my gosh. I miss you too guys,_ he thought. 

He almost reached out to touch those letters, but stopped himself when he remembered he was probably being watched. Harry fought back the tears that were stinging the back of his eyes and his throat and returned to his seat. 

Hermione and Ron had been watching him the whole time. 

"You were his friends?" Harry asked them, more to end the tense silence that had arisen than for any other reason.

"Don't speak about him in the past tense. We _are_ his friends. We're his _best_ friends. Period." Answered Ron aggressively. 

"Don't leap down his throat, Ron. He didn't mean anything by it." Hermione defended.  "You would never have met Harry, would you?" she asked Jason gently.

"No, I'm not from around here. I've heard of him though, but then again who hasn't, right?"

"He hated that you know." Hermione said softly.

"Hated what?"

"The whole 'everybody knows who he is' thing. He hated all the attention. He and Ron had a big fight about it in their fourth year here. Harry always told me that no one ever really looked past his scar and he wished they'd just stop gawping at his forehead."

Harry's heart just danced in his chest. He was feeling very greedy all of a sudden to feel the closeness that they'd once had. He knew he'd never have that again so he just settled for asking,  "What was he like?"

Ron and Hermione must have been glad to have someone to talk about Harry because Ron replied without hesitation. "Genuine. We met on the first day of school on the train. I was dirt poor. There were nine of us in the family and dad wasn't very well paid then. I was always being teased because I was very poor, I was gangly with red hair and freckles and seemed to grow right out of proportion – you know, long legs and arms everywhere. And I was the sixth in a line of seven children. Harry didn't care at all. He made friends with me right then. He could look at a person and see right through everything else right into who they were. Draco Malfoy, this good looking, pompous little rich kid who everybody wanted to know, offered to be friends with him later that same day and he turned him down cold because Malfoy said he didn't like me. The look on Malfoy's face was classic."

"Ron, he's your brother-in-law, so leave him alone," scolded Hermione. 

"Yeah, he married my sister. Turns out there was some good in him after all. Go figure."

"Ron!"

"And Jason, he had this way with a broom. Man, he had talent! He was an ace when it came to quidditch. He was the youngest seeker in a century to make one of the house teams here. He got his skill from his Dad."

"And he was nice Jason, really, really nice. He had this enormous power, and he was special and famous and everything that goes with it, but he managed to stay really nice. He didn't care for it at all. All he wanted was to be 'normal'. But he was pretty headstrong and stubborn when he wanted to be," laughed Hermione. "If he wanted  to do something, there was nothing you could do to stop him. He'd just take his invisibility cloak and sneak off and do what he wanted to do before you could do anything about it."

Harry felt warm listening to his friends talk about him. He'd missed them, but he'd made up his mind to leave and he did.  _I really am as stubborn as she says I am, _he thought.

"Ron's right too, he was amazing on a broom. Naturally gifted. The summer before we started our fourth year here we went to see the Quidditch World Cup.  One of the players did this dangerous thing on his broom.  He'd dive straight down, like he was trying to take a nose dive into the dirt, and at the last minute he'd pull up. One of the seekers used it, and it was a great technique for trying to catch the snitch. Harry was a seeker so naturally he had to try the move out straight away and he did it perfectly the first time he tried it. I mean, the other seeker in that game tried to do it and he hurt himself because he didn't pull up in time. It was some sort of 'wonky faint' thing." Hermione gushed.

"Wronski feint," choked out Ron between gritted teeth. He seemed to be gnashing his teeth together as he continued. "Hermione, I love you and all, but you're killing me. You really are."

"Whatever, Ron.  It's not really important is it?"

"But – it's – oh never mind." He gave up. He knew he'd never actually win the argument with Hermione. 

"What happened to him?" asked Harry when they were all sitting in silence again.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then looked back at him. "We don't know. After the final battle, we looked everywhere for him. Albus said he'd been taken to the hospital but when we went to find him there, he'd gone." Hermione frowned. "He didn't even let us know he was leaving and we're his best friends. He and "you know who" had a history and so apparently, he was the only one who could have saved us from him. Did you know that he was taken away when he was 15 so he could be trained for the war? I don't know anything about what he did after he was taken for training.  Everybody knew we were his best friends, so we were considered a pretty obvious target for kidnapping and extortion. Most of what Harry did - you know, whether he was training or whether he was actually fighting - was kept secret, even from us so that we couldn't give away any information if we _were_ caught and tortured. People think he died from his injuries. _We _don't think so, and neither does Albus. Albus didn't want everyone to panic so he let the Ministry go ahead with the parade they planned without Harry. We all think he just disappeared. He must have had a very good reason – and he must have been _very _clever because even Albus can't find him, and he looked for years." Hermione stopped and just stared at the table. 

_Oh my gosh, they threw a parade. Terrific,_ Harry mentally noted without humour.

"He'd _better_ have had a bloody good reason because if he didn't, and I find him, I'm going to give him the biggest right hook he's ever felt. Hermione and I searched for him for years as well. We didn't find a single clue." Ron silenced himself at that point too. 

_Hmm…__ Ron, my reason was a damn good one. Think about it, there was a reason you weren't allowed to know what I was doing. It was just that bad. I wasn't allowed to see you guys, and I was doing field work while I was still officially being trained. If _you _were me Ron, what would _you _have done?_

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned to stare at the plaque from their seats, their conversation about Harry seemingly brought to an end.

"That plaque is so small, it doesn't really seem enough does it? I mean, he saved us all, and we have a tiny plaque in a big hall to remind us of that," said a somber Hermione.

_It's more than enough,_ thought Harry privately.  _Why doesn't anybody get it? I don't want a bloody plaque – or a parade. I don't even want to be remembered. If I did I wouldn't have left now would I? Why should I get a plaque and a parade when so many people died fighting for the same thing I was fighting for. They died doing the same thing I was doing. They gave me a plaque because I was lucky – or unlucky – enough to live through it all. It just isn't right._

"What would _you _have done?" Harry inquired politely of Hermione.

"Sorry?" 

"Albus put up a plaque, and the Ministry threw a parade. What would _you_ have done for Harry?" 

"I don't know. A bigger plaque at least, something nicer looking. That's just a dinky bit of metal. It doesn't even shine like it should. I'd probably put a big portrait of him in here as well, with a nice little tribute underneath. And I'd definitely have something done on the quidditch pitch because he loved it there," answered Ron after having thought about it a little.

"That's a big gesture. You knew him best I suppose. But, can I ask, if you were Harry and you did what he did, what would you want him to do for you?" asked Harry.  _I'm going to get this through to them if it's the last thing that I do,  Harry_ thought grimly.

"Um, well, I guess as long as Harry and Hermione remembered me I wouldn't actually care what they did or even if they didn't do anything at all," answered Ron.   "Oh."

After a moment of silence, Hermione spoke up. "That was a very shrewd question Jason. No one has ever asked us that before." She looked at him, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Hermione was clever. Harry had forgotten just how clever she really was. _I knew she was quick, but I don't remember her being this quick._ Harry took a deep breath and launched into the only explanation he could come up with on short notice.

"Someone very close to me passed away just recently. I arranged his funeral with his parents. They're very wealthy and he was their only child. They wanted to erect a big monument for him just behind his headstone but I convinced them not to. Friends know things about their friends that that person's parents wouldn't even know. I knew that he didn't want that. He was very private. He didn't like people fussing over him. So it seemed only sensible that he wouldn't want that in death either. I just knew that he would appreciate a small gesture of respect more than a large and ostentatious display, regardless of the intentions behind it."  _That's right, isn't it Greg? _Harry could feel the sting of unshed tears in his eyes so he silenced himself at this point. Hermione reached out to touch his arm and he looked up at her in surprise. 

"I'm sorry, Jason. I can see your point." Hermione looked back at Ron who looked as though he were deep in thought. 

It was at this point that Albus arrived and stopped to speak quietly with Harry.

"Jason, how do you find your seat?"

Harry remembered that he had requested an end seat. He didn't like to feel hemmed in when he was around people, and he liked having a convenient escape route around him. "Thank you Albus, I don't mean to be inconvenient." 

"Nonsense, no one was inconvenienced by your request. If there is ever a situation where you feel you must leave, please feel free to do so. You needn't draw attention to yourself first, I shall know why you have left. In any case, I shall leave you to enjoy the conversation of Professors Weasley."

Harry noticed Ron and Hermione staring at him, so before they could say anything he commented. "Professors Weasley, huh? How do you know who the students are talking about when they mention 'Professor Weasley' in the hallways?" Harry asked.

"That's easy Jason. If they're cursing Professor Weasley, they're talking about Hermione. If they're saying really nice things about Professor Weasley, they're talking about me," replied Ron, grinning. Hermione glared at him.  _Oh man, Ron. You can still get yourself into trouble just fine. You don't need me to help at all,  Harry_ chuckled to himself.

"Really?" asked Harry. Hermione stepped into the conversation at this point.

"Ron, is exaggerating– " Ron seemed to be shaking his head and making wide exaggerated gestures with his arms behind Hermione's back to indicate that he wasn't joking. He stopped and tried to look as though his attention had been momentarily distracted by something on one of the student House tables when Hermione turned around. 

"Anyway, as I was saying," said Hermione as she turned around quickly again to make sure she could carry on without being interrupted, "the only reason people _may_ prefer Ron as a professor to me is because Muggle Studies is a more laid back subject than Arithmancy and I push my students hard to make sure they do as well as they can. I mean, Arithmancy is - "

"- the toughest subject there is. Yeah, yeah. Actually, they like me more because I'm better looking than Hermione is." Ron stated matter of factly. He regretted it a second later when Hermione punched him quite fiercely. "Idiot" she muttered. 

Harry turned his attention away from the bickering pair next to him. He had watched Hermione and Ron fight with one another since he was eleven years old and this continuity of old habits was comforting. He noticed that Albus wandered the length of the staff table chatting quietly randomly with some of the professors before claiming his seat and allowing the older students into the hall to settle themselves before the first years arrived to be sorted into their Houses. Once that was done, Harry was introduced to the school as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor and dinner was served. It was, on the whole, a very sedate evening, and Harry couldn't complain about anything aside from the fact that Professor Snape let out a very poorly disguised snort of derision when "Professor Green" was introduced to the students, and he kept sending him some very hostile glares throughout dinner. 

* * *

A dark robed figure entered a darkened room, answering his Master's summons. He made sure to stay at the very back of the room, as he had been instructed. It was more than his life was worth to approach the screen which sectioned off one part of the room from view.

"My Lord, we have many people working on it already. Surely there is no need for more."

Behind the screen, an unidentifiable form stirred. "Do not question me." It hissed. "I want more people involved in the task. I wish to accelerate our plans."

"I understand, my Lord." The robed figure replied meekly.

"But we must move cautiously. We cannot afford to be discovered prematurely."

"Of course, my Lord."

"You are dismissed." 

"Thank you, my Lord." The robed shape stood up and executed a low bow before leaving the room.

* * *

Harry was feeling somewhat relaxed this evening. In his own bedroom, as he got ready for bed and stripped down to his boxers, he reflected on how well the evening had gone. He attributed his mood to his conversation with Ron and Hermione. Talking to them had brought to the surface feelings for them that he thought he had forgotten or long since buried. He climbed into bed and settled against the pillows. By force of habit, he grabbed his sleeping pills and the glass of water that were sitting on his left bedside table. He looked at the tablets in his hand. He had told himself that once he began his life at Hogwarts he would try to rely less on his sleeping tablets. He had to admit that he was scared. He had enjoyed a fortnight of dreamless, drug induced sleep and he knew that without them he'd be having nightmares and haunted dreams every night. However the sleeping tablets, when used constantly, left him feeling generally lethargic and sluggish. As a chemist, he knew the dangers of relying on medication, so he resolved to go without them tonight and see what happened.  _I've got to start somewhere_,  he thought to himself.  So he simply drank the water and settled back against the pillows to sleep. 

* * *

_Greg handed Harry a trowel. "And what am I supposed to do with this?" asked Harry innocently._

_"I'd say that was pretty obvious. You're going to stop watching me work in the garden, and you're going to help," answered Greg in a no-nonsense tone. _

_"I'd say you're handling those weeds pretty well. There's no mistaking who's boss there." Harry grinned. Before he knew what was happening, Greg was throwing clumps of weeds and dirt at him and Harry was struggling to avoid getting too much dirt in his mouth. Laughing, he made his way over to Greg and pulled him into a tight hug so that he couldn't be assaulted with the vegetation any longer. _

_Greg struggled against Harry's strong grip. "Hey Jason, I can't breathe. Let up, I think you're breaking my ribs!" gasped Greg. "If you hurt the cook, you don't eat. And what's more - " Harry cut Greg off with a long, deep kiss. He didn't let up until Greg's knees weakened and he was having to hold him up. He pulled back and looked into Greg's eyes, asking a silent question. Greg looked right back and answered that question - "On the other hand, the garden can wait, I mean, it looks pretty good overall doesn't it?"  With that, he grabbed Harry's hand and started to drag him back to the flat._

_All of a sudden a chill filled the air and he felt cold right down to his bones. "Jason?"_

_Harry's instincts tuned into battle mode. His defenses were on high and his senses were tuned into his surroundings trying to determine what was going on. "Greg, stay behind me."_

_"Uh-huh." Greg replied, confused and nodding dumbly._

_Harry moved to close the door, only to see Voldemort, the Dark wizard himself, slowly enter the room. _

_"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be dead! Greg, run. Just get out of here." Harry cried. _

_"Mr. Potter, I wouldn't do that if I were you. You see, my faithful have you surrounded. You can't escape Mr. Potter, and neither can your friend."_

_"Mr. Potter?" repeated Greg, who was still frozen to his spot behind Harry._

_"Um…."_

_"Avada Kedavra!" cried Voldemort. Harry saw a blinding flash of green light and heard Greg cry out. He was dead before he hit the ground._

_"No! Greg! Nooooooooo! You bastard! I already killed you! Oh, Greg! NOOOOOOOOOO!" ___

Harry shook himself awake. He found himself on the floor tangled up in his bed clothes, shivering and drenched in sweat. Harry sat and tried to catch his breath. He exhaled shakily and ran his hands through his hair. He shuffled himself back to lean back against his bedside chest of drawers. He held his head in his hands and let the tears pour down his face. His body was racked with sobs. It was so real. It was all so real. He remembered that incident with Greg in the garden so well. Harry had been in his flat for about eight months. He hadn't exactly neglected his garden, but he hadn't been diligent in his attendance to it either. He had had enough of gardening when he was with the Dursleys and while he appreciated having a pleasant garden, he didn't spend _every _weekend weeding his flowerbeds. 

Greg had moved in and immediately taken charge of that. He had grown up with beautiful gardens around him and he wanted their garden to be spectacular. He could never convince Harry to be as enthusiastic about it as he was though. 

But, on that particular day, Voldemort had most _definitely_ not appeared in the garden. His death eaters had not surrounded them and he had not killed Greg. He was expecting to be haunted by Greg during his sleep, but he had not expected to dream about Voldemort as well. He often had nightmares about Voldemort – he was surprised he wasn't a complete basket case right now, with all the things he'd seen - but Voldemort and Greg, in one dream?  _Bloody hell,_ he thought. He picked himself up off the floor and looked at the clock. It was only 4:00am. He groaned and reached for the Panadeine. He normally experienced headaches when he woke up from a nightmare, and today he had a shocker of a headache which he didn't think would disappear by the time he had to teach his first class. 

Sighing, he picked up his bedsheets and tossed them haphazardly back onto the bed. He half stumbled, half climbed back into the bed and leaned to settle back into the pillows. He missed Greg quite painfully now. Greg would be the one to hand him his headache medicine when he had one of his nightmares. Then he would hold Harry until he fell asleep again. Harry wrapped his arms around himself and tried to fall asleep. Harry didn't have a class to teach until 11:00, so as the codeine started to kick into his system, he concentrated his magic and let the clock know that he would appreciate being woken up at 10:00am, which would give him enough time to rest before having to get ready for his first class. 

* * *

They hastened to answer their Master's summons. No one dared to keep him waiting. They arrived and entered the dark room, dropping to their knees and keeping their gaze fixed on the ground before them, and not at the screen separating them from their Lord.

"My Lord, all is going as planned." One of the robed men volunteered.

The screen moved as the form shifted behind it. "This pleases me. How much more needs to be done?"

"We are nearly finished, my Lord." Another form answered, hesitantly. 

"And our short term goal?"

There was a moment's silence before one of the summoned tactfully answered, "Ah, an opportunity has not yet arisen, my Lord."

The unseen form behind the screen hissed and spoke with obvious impatience, "If an opportunity has not arisen, create one." The room seemed to reverberate with the coldness in their master's voice.

"Of course, my Lord." each of the robed figures murmured as they backed out of the room. 

* * *

Harry dressed carefully for his first day of teaching. He didn't want to appear too relaxed, but he didn't want to appear overly rigid either, _like a certain potions master, _he snickered. He couldn't feel comfortable in anything but muggle clothing so he pulled on one of Greg's leather trousers (a little long, but bunched attractively around the top of his shoes) into which he tucked a deep green dress shirt (the sleeves of which had to be rolled up a couple of times). He wore Greg's favourite leather boots under the trousers.  _Right_ _Potter, nothing to worry about, they're only kids. This is nothing. Remember, you killed Voldemort._  "Yeah, but I can't do to the kids what I did to Voldemort," he complained to himself. He grabbed his professor's robes off the couch and put them on as he headed to his classroom. The robes were black but lightweight. They clasped at the throat but hung open down the front so that they billowed out around him as he walked and didn't hide what he was wearing. He'd almost left his room when he remembered that he had to put his contact lenses in.

"Bugger! Bloody hindering awkward pain in the bloody neck!"  He kept his concealment spells on him when he was at Hogwarts. He planned to keep them on until he left here and returned to London. His contacts were a different story. They were obviously too uncomfortable to keep in, so he took them out when he finished classes for the day and wore his glasses around his rooms in the evenings. Nobody visited him in the evenings so he didn't have to worry about people stumbling upon his deep green bespectacled eyes.

He hurried to the bathroom and put one of the lenses on his finger. "I hate this," he muttered to himself. It wasn't as though he was squeamish about the idea of seeing somebody's eyeball, he had no objections to eyeballs in general, after all, he'd lived through a war. He'd seen more than just eyeballs in his time. But he couldn't stand the thought of _touching _a naked eyeball. He had inwardly squirmed every time Moody had removed his eye.  _Ick__!_  Once he had them in, he left his rooms. 

Since he had missed breakfast that morning, he stopped off at the staff room to have a coffee and read the newspaper before his first class started. He was so engrossed in what he was reading that he would have been late for his first class had he not happened to glance up at the clock to find that he had only ten minutes to get to his class. "Well, I'm the teacher. Class won't start without me so it doesn't really matter if I'm late, does it?" Harry reassured himself.

"Actually, if you're too late Jason, you might find that your students will assume you're not going to be there and leave. You didn't have a class this morning did you? Surely you don't need to be looking for the caffeine yet, do you?" observed Minerva from the doorway.

Harry was mortified.  _You're still talking to yourself?! One day someone's going to lock you up, and I'm not sure they'd be wrong for doing it! _ Harry was silently cursing himself and didn't notice that Minerva had silently navigated her way to the coffee pot "I, on the other hand, need the coffee pot. In fact, I think I deserve to claim this one for the next hour. One of my overzealous sixth years managed to accidentally activate his entire pack of "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes" in my classroom," said Minerva in tired tones.

"They're meant to be funny aren't they?" Harry politely inquired.

"Only if you're a student," shuddered Minerva, adding more sugar to her coffee. 

Harry shrugged and left the common room, now running five minutes late for his class.  

* * *

On the way to his classroom, two young third year Hufflepuff girls accidentally slammed bodily into him as they ran around the corner. They were late for their class too. Harry didn't seem to be too affected. He picked himself up off the ground and leaned down to help the young girls up. 

"I'm sorry sir, we shouldn't have been running in the hallway, we were just – whoa..." the girl who was speaking stopped and stared at Harry, unable to continue. 

"We shouldn't have been running in the corridors sir." The other girl finished for her friend. With a weak smile at Harry she pulled her friend, who was still staring at Harry, down the corridor. 

"Whoa, did you see him? He's _cool_! He smells nice and he wears leather - and I ran into him so I can tell you he's _all _muscle under there. He's so _cute_! He looks pretty young too. I wonder how old he is."

"Put your tongue back in Meryl, we're already late."

Harry laughed inwardly.  _Greg would get a real laugh out of this. You'd have competition Greg, there are a couple of teenage witches who think your gay partner is cute! How's that for ironic? _

Harry stopped. He had an idea for how he was going to teach his class. He returned briefly to his rooms, and then ducked briefly outside the castle before heading back to his classroom. 

* * *

Harry rushed passed Professor Snape in the corridor as he hurried to his classroom trying to juggle items he had gathered in his arms. 

"Professor." Harry acknowledged with a polite nod of the head as he passed Professor Snape.

"Er, Professor Green, don't you have a class to teach?"

Harry stopped and turned back to Professor Snape. "Yes, Professor, I do. I'm on my way there now actually."

"With those?" Professor Snape asked, pointing to the various items Harry was carrying.

"Yes."

"I was under the impression that you were supposed to be teaching the students Defence Against the Dark Arts. It rather looks like you're going to show them how to make a salad, or even plant a garden." Professor Snape commented snidely.  Harry rolled his eyes.  _Sarcastic as ever._

Harry didn't have time to play right now so he settled for just brushing the Professor off.  "I will teach my class the way I choose to Professor. Good day." And with that Harry whirled around and continued on his way to his classroom. He arrived at his classroom ten minutes late for the class. He moved to the front of the classroom and arranged the items in a line across the front of his desk. He turned around to face his class. He was teaching fourth year Hufflepuffs this time. 

"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts. I'm Professor Green." Harry stepped away from the front of the desk and starting pacing around the room. "You're probably wondering why there is a banana, a peach, a stick, a rock, a flower and a shoe on the desk. They're going to be very important for our lesson today."

Harry looked at his class and was rewarded with creased eyebrows and looks of absolute confusion. 

"Er, this fellow's nutters." One of the young boys whispered to his friend.

"Actually, I'm not." Harry laughed good-naturedly.  _Ha_! His subconscious objected._ Didn't Minerva just catch me talking to myself in the staffroom? _The young student was stunned and embarrassed that he'd been overheard. He mumbled an apology to Harry, which Harry waved off. 

"I know it looks a little weird, but there is a point to all of this.  First of all though, since I'm new to the school, I want to know what you've studied so far." Harry requested of his class. He engaged them all in discussion and was disappointed to find that he didn't consider that they had actually learned anything of any significance.  They had only learned about a few different kind of rare and potentially dangerous animal, and even then, they hadn't even learned about dementors or boggarts.

_I know the war's over, but surely Albus can't have become so complacent that he would permit Defence Against the Dark Arts to be taught by someone who obviously didn't know the subject,_ reasoned Harry. _Then again, maybe he was still having trouble finding someone to fill the position. At least that would explain why the last professor taught these kids absolutely nothing. _

"O.k. I know what level you're at now," _Yep, they might be able to best my bedroom slippers in a fight…maybe_, "so, let's concentrate on what I've got on my desk. As I said, there is a reason that those particular items are at the front of the room. I've only been here a short time but even I can see that there is a certain amount of disdain between certain Houses at this school." Some of the students shifted a little uncomfortably in their seats at this. 

"One of the reasons you're all separated into Houses is to promote competition and friendly rivalry. _Friendly _ rivalry."

"But sir, the Slytherins single us out all the time," one of the students ventured.

"I'm not saying that that's acceptable either. I won't tolerate this sort of unreasoning House prejudice from anyone. Right, on to more important things. Who can point out the similarities between the items on my desk?" Harry asked, rubbing his hands together.

A sea of hands shot up. "What can you tell me?" Harry asked a young girl.

"Sir, two of them are similar because they're fruit and two are similar because they belong in the garden. The shoe is the odd one out."

"Very good, and your name is?"

"Anna Louise, sir."

"Thank you Miss Louise. You are right, but what if I were to tell you that two of the items are similar because you can wear them. How would you group them then? Someone else please?"

The students thought about this for a little while before one young boy raised his hand. "Sir, I'm Lewis Black. You can wear a shoe and sometimes people wear flowers. Stupid girly habit if you ask me, sir." 

Harry laughed. "Yes, you're right. And I agree, I'd never wear a flower if you paid me."

"Sir, the peach and the flower are similar because they're about the same colour."

During Harry's study of medicine, he took a Psychology class and this was the very first lesson they had ever had. When he saw the items his Professor had brought in, he thought he was a right nutter as well. But the lesson was a useful one. He was pleased with the way the lesson was going. After about ten more minutes, during which the students were amusing themselves more and more with their efforts:

"Sir, the banana and the shoe are similar because my sister often throws both at me when I annoy her."  _I'd like to throw a shoe at Snape! _ Harry thought menacingly.

Harry called for silence. "O.k. that was great. You all got the hang of that really well. Now seriously, what have you learned from that. Did you learn anything at all?"

"That Brian's sister's weapon of choice is a shoe!" yelled out one student.  _It'll be my weapon of choice if I run into Snape again on the way out of here. On second thought, that seems like a waste of a perfectly good shoe to me. The shoe  hasn't done anything to deserve that, really…_

"Aside, from that. I want you to think about what you were trying to do."  

"Sir, I'm Eloise Hancock. Things aren't always what they seem on the outside, are they?"

"Excellent Miss Hancock. Five points to Hufflepuff. Anyone else?"

"Sir, that you can see all sorts of things if you look hard enough?" 

"Another five points to Hufflepuff. Very good. You caught onto that pretty quickly. Now how can we apply that to the rivalry between the Houses?" 

"Sir, that we should look for more than what we can just see about people?"

"Excellent. Ten points to Hufflepuff." Harry was willing to be generous with House points if it was going to get his lesson across.

"Sir, that even though we've been separated into different Houses and may look different at first, that if we look a bit harder, we might find similarities between ourselves and the people in other Houses?"

"Yes, twenty points to Hufflepuff. That was the whole point of the lesson. You're all still a little too young to remember much about the war." Harry sat on the edge of his desk, facing his class, his face very serious. "You-know-who was a very dark wizard." 

Harry stopped because most of the students gasped.  _Good grief, don't tell me people are still doing that. It's a good thing I didn't use his actual name. But then if I did use his name, someone would probably guess who I really am, since Harry Potter was one of only a few people who ever called Voldemort by  name _thought Harry. "It's o.k. We can talk about him. He's gone. He's not going to just pop up in this classroom because we referred to him. Anyway, he tried to make everybody believe that the only type of wizard or witch worth being was a pureblooded wizard or witch." He paused and looked very sternly at his students. "If I hear anyone say that he was right, I will deduct 100 points from their House and give them detention every evening with me." Harry told his students in a soft, cold voice. The effect was not lost on them. Several of them gulped but a few nodded their heads thoughtfully. Harry debated with himself as to whether or not he should reveal the next bit of information. He decided it wouldn't hurt anything so he did. "Did you know he was only a halfblooded wizard himself?"

"You're kidding!"

"Not at all. I'm perfectly serious. He really was. Now, he was a very powerful wizard. Very powerful. But half the reason he was so powerful was because so many people were willing to follow him. Does anybody want to guess how he convinced so many people to follow him?"

"Did he promise them money?" asked one young girl.

"Well, sometimes he did. But most of them didn't really need it. Anyone else?"

"Did he threaten them?"

"Sometimes. But most of the people who worked for him _wanted _to work for him. You see, what he did wasn't very clever, or even very subtle. Most, if not all, of the people who worked for him were pureblooded wizards and witches themselves, who thought that this made them superior to halfbloods and muggleborns. He played on that. He patronised them and convinced them that if they joined with him they would take their place as the 'leaders of the wizarding community' - behind him of course - and that half bloods, muggleborns and anyone who opposed them would be killed, tortured or enslaved. 

"My point is11 he patronised certain witches and wizards who held very narrow minded feelings about other people in the community. Prejudice is a very dark and dangerous thing. I mean, if you need proof, I just explained to you that one of the founding reasons for the war was prejudice. People let their narrowminded attitudes consume them, and that's a very dangerous thing.  It's also very habit forming.

"Right, our time is nearly up, but for homework I want you to write an essay on examples of the sort of behaviour that we've just discussed that you see around you, and how those instances might have been resolved differently. I'll see you next time." 

Harry watched his students as they packed up to leave. Most of them seemed thoughtful and distracted as they made their way out of his class room.  _Success, I think,  he_ thought to himself as he took a big bite out of the peach. 

* * *

Some weeks later, Harry was sitting dejectedly at the staff table pushing his breakfast around on the plate. He still wasn't able to sleep properly. The dark circles under his eyes and his pale skin were testimony of that. Between having dreams alternately haunted by Greg, Voldemort and sometimes both at once, he was surprised he was able to function. He wasn't taking sleeping pills anymore but he was going through his headache medication and potions rather quickly. He noticed that Hermione still placed a kiss on his plaque every morning when she arrived in the hall, and Ron still reached out to touch the plaque as well. It was comforting.

On this particular morning, a small group of professors, headed by Albus, approached the Professors Weasley. Albus bid Harry a good morning and quietly took Ron and Hermione to one side, so that they were a little apart from the staff table and Harry. Harry paid no attention to this. He did not take offence either. He was going to be at the school for one year only and had no intention of involving himself in staff activities anymore than was necessary. He preferred to be left alone with his thoughts and his grief. Harry did look up though when he heard Professor Snape, who was part of the small group, hiss none too softly to the rest of the group:

"His information may be useful, but I have reason to believe that he has been misleading us from the very beginning and so I, for one, would find it difficult to believe any information he might give us." 

Everybody who was able to hear that comment thought that it was out of line, even for Professor Snape. Albus looked sternly at Professor Snape:

"Severus!" exclaimed Minerva. 

"Let us take this matter to my office shall we," Albus offered. A little more loudly he added, "please join us Professor Green. After all, we can't have this hanging over our heads, can we. This sort of thing needs to be discussed."

 _Terrific,  thought_ Harry viciously adding, _Where's that shoe when I need it?_ With a sigh, Harry pushed back his breakfast and followed the small group of Professors out of the Great Hall and into the Headmaster's office. Albus drew chairs for all of them and invited them all to sit. Harry chose the chair closest to the door. It also happened to be the chair that was situated the furthest away from the Potions Master.  _Damned if I'll sit in the middle of the room like I'm on trial. _

"Professor, I -." Was as much as Albus was able to speak because Professor Snape immediately interrupted. 

"Headmaster, I have reason to believe that Professor Green has been misleading all of us from the very beginning."

"I'm _insulted _ by that Professor." Mocked Harry in exaggerated tones as he racked his brain, trying to think of what Professor Snape had stumbled upon which could have brought this on. He knew he had to be careful here. Professor Snape had survived many years as a double agent and a spy for the light. He was a very intelligent and calculating man. Harry knew he would have to watch his step. 

"Professor Green arrived here with no recommendations, no references and no information about his past. I have made inquiries and the Ministry of Magic has no record of a 'Jason Green' having ever existed." Professor Snape explained to the room.

 _Shit. _Now that he stopped to think about it, it was a logical step for someone who was suspicious of him to take, and he mentally slapped himself for not having thought to cover those tracks.  _Then again, I wasn't really in much of a position to be thinking very clearly. I hadn't intended on ever coming back here so why would I have tried to cover my tracks here as well. Right, damage control._  

"Professor Green, would you like to respond to this? As a matter of formality, I would ask that you be honest with us. This is a very real concern which won't go away unless we are all honest with each other today," cautioned Albus. All eyes were on Harry. 

"I will be honest with you. My name really is Jason Green." Said Harry.  Professor Snape glared at him suspiciously. Harry rolled his eyes. "I can say this honestly." He told the professors in the room. 

"I am puzzled as to why the Ministry does not have any record of your existence"

 _Bugger.__ This is quickly turning into an all out interrogation. Well, let's see who can best who in this game Snape._

He had to think very quickly. In a bid to buy himself more time, he stood up and moved to Albus' table to pour himself some water. He made his way to sit back down in his chair again. As he was doing this his mind had kicked into over drive. He couldn't admit who he really was. He had to come up with something believable. He had been drilled in the art of concealment and deceit during his years of training. He could lie like a champion and knew from experience that the best lies contained a subtle mix of truth and fiction. He had also been trained in how to deal with interrogation and he was more than capable of handling himself. He had learned to control his facial expression and body language and to keep his heart rate steady. He had even been tortured for information on occasion during the war, when he was unlucky enough to have been caught during a field mission. He was a pro at this game. This sparring session with Professor Snape was nothing.

However, even with his skill, he knew that he had to tread carefully here.

He could think of no convincing way to lie his way out of the question before him. So he settled for saying "Professor Snape, the Ministry _does_ have a record of my existence." He knew that that would sound strange, and more than just a little suspicious. But then, he reasoned that most of the Professors on staff had already been a little suspicious of him. Most of the Professors on staff new that he had arrived to the interview with Albus with no references, credentials or background. They must have been suspicious at the outset.  _Mind you, I wasn't really in a position to prepare fully for my arrival here so I couldn't really expect anything less. _ 

"So, you maintain that your name is really Jason Green." Inquired Professor Snape.

"Yes."

"And the Ministry does have a record of your existence."

"Yes."

"Even though I have informed you that inquiries have shown that no records for 'Jason Green' exist in the Ministry."

"Yes."

"And you are being completely honest?"

"Yes." Professor Snape creased his eyebrows and Harry knew he was becoming frustrated. He gained enormous satisfaction from that. The professor paused to think about the situation. 

"That's not possible." The Astronomy professor said. She then stopped and looked around the room, as if embarrassed that she had actually spoken what was supposed to be a private thought.  _It is if you were born in the wizarding world and changed your name in the muggle world._  thought Harry smugly. 

"Actually it is," said Professor Snape, "if you've changed your name." Harry did not comment. He merely sipped from his glass of water. He knew that Professor Snape would spend the next few days trying to find a record of his change of name, if he hadn't already done so. He was almost certain that Albus would already have searched those records pretty thoroughly himself. In any case, any additional searches would reveal nothing, and Snape's anger would reach volcanic proportions.  _Oh, shame,  thought_ Harry with a grin. 

"The circumstances certainly beg the question: why was it necessary to change your name?" inquired the Potions Master, matter of factly.

_This isn't the Professor Snape I know. He's not normally this restrained or polite. I wonder what's stopping him from just calling me a liar to my face. He looks like he wants to, _Harry  mused to himself. _Of course, he's too clever to come out with all guns blazing. He certainly is subtle. I'll bet he's trying to trick me into being careless with his polite 'chit-chat' tone of voice. Sorry to spoil your day Snape, but I'm no amateur. Play on, _thought Harry to himself. 

Harry was still thinking of the best way to respond to the Professor when Albus saved him from the effort "If it is true, his reasons for his actions are his own, Severus." __

The Professor recognised a rebuke when he heard one, so he paused to consider how he should continue. "You say that you were born here, but were not educated here" observed Professor Snape. The professor had already asked Harry about this at the first staff meeting. He was a little surprised that Albus was allowing Professor Snape to continue to fish for information like this, but Harry could tell that he was interested in receiving some answers himself, so, as long as the Professor was not overly rude, he would not stop the meeting. Harry sighed inwardly and turned his mind to addressing the observation. 

"No. I was born in Britain, but educated elsewhere."

"If you are to be believed, you were educated 'down south', The Potions Master supplied.

"Yes."

"That is very vague, does this place have a name?" sneered Professor Snape. 

"I had no wish to disclose the location the first time you asked me and I have no wish to do so now" answered Harry firmly.

"I believe that such a harmless piece of information would not hurt anything, would it Professor Green? It would help to quash some of the suspicion that seems to be directed at you, I'm sure." Albus cautiously suggested.

Harry sighed and thought about this. He was stuck with the 'educated down south' story so he was going to have do the best he could with it. He refilled his glass and sat back down. "I was fairly young when my family moved. We went to Australia,"  _that's__ certainly 'south' _ "to live with some relatives for a while. One of my great uncles had died and we stayed to help my aunt manage her property while she got back on her feet. I only moved back here recently."

 _Hmmm…semi-true.__ I was taken to live with my relatives when I was young. And I really did just come back to the wizarding world very recently._  

"Australia." Professor Snape repeated dryly, raising an eyebrow at Harry. 

"Yes."

"Of course." The professor commented, clearly not sure whether to believe such a tale.

The room fell into silence. It was obvious that Harry wasn't going to be forthcoming and the professors in the room were unsure of how to proceed. After a short time had passed, Harry sighed theatrically in his seat. "Will that be all for today, Professor? While I have enjoyed our time together here it looks as though we'll only be repeating discussions that we've already had, which really is a waste of _my _time, if it isn't a waste of anyone else's," commented Harry quite pointedly.

"I will not continue with this line of questioning. You are hiding something and misleading us all, that much is certain. I am also certain that no amount of questioning will induce you to divulge the information," Professor Snape commented, somewhat casually. He then looked Harry in the eyes as he narrowed his. He spoke softly and slowly.  "You must know though, that in times such as these, when the war is still fresh in people's minds, trust is a very rare commodity. I only suggest that if there should ever come a time when you should need people to trust you, do not be surprised if they are hesitant to give you their trust or aid if you give people a reason to doubt your honesty." 

Harry wasn't easily intimidated. He glared daggers back at the Professor. A tense silence enveloped the room until Albus interrupted it. "Severus, this has gone far enough," he commanded. Neither professor looked away from the other. 

"Professor Snape, I'm surprised that you of all people can make that observation," said Harry mildly, as he crossed his arms across his chest. 

"And why is that?"

"If I were to believe the idle whispers of some of my students, you were once a death eater, a follower of the Dark wizard himself. In fact, if rumour is to be believed, your role as a death eater was discovered and you were forced to work for both sides of the war. Some stories tell that you were more afraid of Albus than of the Dark wizard. Nasty stories, all of them." Harry paused here to sip his water and let that information sink in. Professor Snape's jaw tensed, but he made no other movement to suggest that he had been caught off guard. Harry continued relentlessly. "But I don't place much faith in idle speculation. It's never nice and rarely true. I must admit though, I was rather curious about it all." 

"Why on earth didn't you ask the professor about it then? Or Albus, if you were concerned about it," asked Minerva.

He deliberately paused and turned to give the Potions Master a look that spoke volumes. "Because it seemed personal, and was clearly none of my business." Without taking his eyes from the Professor, Harry said "Albus, I've been detained long enough. I can assure you and every person in this room that I have no other intent than to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. I don't know what you might think I'm hiding from you but I can assure you that I'm not the next Dark Lord. We all have secrets in this day and age but my secrets are my own and they are personal. They are nothing that will harm anybody here in any way, shape or form. I believe you can have no further questions. If you have no further questions, I will ask you to kindly unlock the door so I may leave.

The whole room was stunned into silence. "Yes, of course." Albus removed the charms he had placed on the door. "Thank you Headmaster, Professors. By your leave." He headed toward his rooms, the blood boiling in his veins, though satisfied with the interview. 

* * *

The professors were still shocked by what had passed in the room. They silently watched Harry leave the office and close the door softly behind him. 

"Severus, you go too far," began Albus.

"He's hiding something Albus."

"That much is certain but you are not in a position to judge him. Most of us have secrets. If you knew mine I dare say you would be shocked, and I doubt that you would ever be able to look me in the eye again." Albus' eyes twinkled as he said this.

The whole room of professors had not missed the implication behind that innocent remark and they wandered whether he really meant it that way at all, because it was really rather disturbing if he did.

"Surely you cannot trust him Albus." Recovered Professor Snape.

"He may not be forthcoming with information regarding himself, but he has given me no reason not to trust him." Replied Albus. "I remember a young man who, many years ago, had a dark secret of his own. If I had not shown him the trust that he deserved, he may have turned out very badly indeed. As it is, he turned out rather well, though he really does need to exercise caution when blurting out unfounded opinions, particularly when the subject of those accusations is within earshot." Albus gave Severus a knowing look.

Albus and Professor Snape found their seats again. 

"Right. I called you all together because I want a small team to do a little field work. I have heard rumours of some activity in London. Muggle newspapers have described it as random violence perpetrated by members of a gang. I thought we should take a look, just to be sure it isn't anything more. Can't be too careful, can we?"

"Don't they have authorities to do that sort of thing Albus?" snapped Professor Snape. 

"Severus, I would have thought that the war had taught us all that for reasons of our own, we should make sure that this is nothing more than muggle gang violence." He paused to look at Professor Snape, who was getting pretty tired of being 'looked at' by Albus. Truth be told, he was still a little disturbed by Albus' admission that if he knew his secrets he wouldn't be able to look him in the face again…

Albus continued, "Mr Weasley suggested that Jason may have had some valuable information to contribute since he was, until recently, working in muggle London and may be able to volunteer some information about whether these sort of occurrences are common in that area and he may have had some contacts which we could have utilised but not to worry, we'll be just fine. Now, as for volunteers…"

* * *

If any of the Professors had chosen to watch Harry after he had left the office, they would have seen him calmly walking down the stairs – and then trip embarrassingly down the last three stairs. The meeting had taken some time and Harry assumed that someone had organised to have his last class covered or cancelled. He had twenty minutes before his next class began, so he went to his rooms and made himself a coffee. He sat in his armchair and ran through the meeting again in his mind.  

He had disclosed more information than he would have liked, but that had been unavoidable given the circumstances. The Professors may know now that he wasn't who he claimed to be, but Harry was content in the knowledge that no amount of searching of documents or records would betray his true identity (which was what he really wanted to keep secret), he had made sure of that.

He harboured a momentary fear that someone with knowledge that he wasn't who he was claiming to be, would link his sudden appearance and the suspicious circumstances surrounding it, with the disappearance of Harry Potter. But he dismissed this concern. There would be no logical reason for them to do that. With his concealment charms and contact lenses in place, he didn't _look_ like Harry Potter. There were reports of enough disappearances and the occurrence of strange events during the war that his appearance could just as easily be linked to any one of them. They'd just recently emerged from a war. Lots of wizards and witches had secrets, so he wouldn't be considered too strange for having some of his own. 

Harry was confident that even Albus would not be able to discover his identity with the scant information that he had.  There was no denying that Albus was a very clever man with extensive contacts, but he was still human. An extraordinary human, but human nonetheless and that meant that he was fallible. He could make mistakes. This was the only thing saving Harry from certain discovery. 

When Harry was younger, he had believed that Albus was capable of anything. That there wasn't anything that he couldn't do and there wasn't anything that he didn't know. But Harry recalled the events of his first year at Hogwarts. Albus had unfortunately been unaware that Voldermot had taken up residence in Professor Quirrel's body and was manipulating his actions for the better part of an entire school year. In his third year at Hogwarts, Albus had admitted to Harry that he was unaware that Harry's father and his friends were unregistered animagi. In Harry's fourth year Albus did not know that Professor Moody had been kidnapped and that the man who was posing as Professor Moody was actually Barty Crouch Junior, who had managed to play a key role in the resurrection of Voldemort from his position in the school.

Indeed, Albus could be fooled, but you had to get up pretty early in the morning to do it. It was tricky, but it could be done. 

Harry sipped his coffee. He had arranged his armchairs on angles in front of the fireplace, much as they had been in the flat. He turned his attention to the picture of Greg and himself, which he had only put up on the mantle of the fire place a couple of days ago. He had put another picture of Greg and himself on one of the bedside chest of drawers and another picture of Greg on a shelf in his study. The photo he was presently looking at was taken only a year ago. He and Greg were both standing in their garden, arms around each other's waists, posing for the camera which Harry had set to a timer so that he could leave the camera to take the picture of both of them by itself. 

His eyes started to sting. He was still grieving, but it had been just over a month since Greg had passed away and his grief had settled into a deep ache in his soul. He had made the decision on the weekend to put some pictures up around his suite of rooms. He had made the rooms as comfortable as he could, but there seemed to be so little warmth in them. When he was a student here, he loved to sit in the Gryffindor common room because it was always so warm and inviting. 

His emotions had been close to the surface since Greg had passed away and he had had to make a conscious effort not to strangle Professor Snape in the Headmaster's Office. Though he appeared as though he was completely in control of the situation, he didn't feel that way. He was well trained to deal with situations like that one, and though it had been some years since he had had to rely on the skills of his training on a daily basis, his training had taken over during his 'interrogation' and he had controlled the situation.

 _So what's that now, Snape? Two – nil to me? You should have seen the way I gave him the slip, Greg,  he_ thought a little wistfully. Greg would have been proud, and would have laughed hard at the expression on Professor Snape's face. Harry recalled the first time he had dinner with Greg's parents. They had thrown what felt like at least a hundred questions, about his childhood and his past, at him. Being who he was, he was uncomfortable with answering them in any great detail. He didn't think that "I'm Harry Potter, I killed Voldemort, the evil wizard who was threatening the existence of the wizarding and muggle worlds" would have gone over very well with Greg's parents and he was fairly certain that they would have him locked up if he'd mentioned it. 

Greg knew he felt uncomfortable talking about his past. Early on in their relationship he had hinted to Greg that he'd had an unhappy childhood and Greg had never pushed him to discuss it. He had given Greg's parents only scant information about his past and had made every effort to steer the conversation to another topic. 

"Jason," Greg laughed when they were alone after dinner, "the way you ducked and dodged those questions was amazing. You're a pro. If I ever commit a crime, I want you as a witness for my side." 

Harry shook himself out of his daydream and looked over at the clock. It was just about time for his next class to begin. With a sigh he reluctantly got up and gathered his notes in preparation for his next class.

* * *

The small group arrived when they were summoned and kneeled to their Lord, as was their custom. The room was perpetually dark, and the only light in the room seemed to be coming from behind the screen. The small amount of light cast the kneeling figures into shadow. The unseen form behind the screen hissed menacingly. "I am becoming impatient." 

"My Lord, we must set things up just so." stammered the kneeling form of a robed man.

"I tire of excuses." the voice behind the screen stated in hostile and clipped tones. The robed figures flinched from their positions at the back of the room. 

"My Lord –."

"But I understand that we must not be suspected." Their Master finally conceded. The kneeling figures exhaled the breaths that they were unconsciously holding. They had all learned, very painfully, that it wouldn't do to displease their Lord. 

"Yes, my Lord." murmured a sea of voices from the back of the room.

"Our short term goal?"

"An opportunity has presented itself." One of the kneeling figures stated, obviously relieved that he could offer a little good news to his Master.

"Discretion is the key."

"Of course, my Lord."

"Leave me now." their Master dismissed them. The robed figures rose and bowed deeply before leaving the room.


	6. chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of Harry Potter or its characters, they belong to the talented Ms. Rowling. Only the plot is my own.  

Thank you to everybody who reviewed and provided me with an answer to my question. A big thank you to my beta reader ('editor-in-chief'). Your efforts are greatly appreciated.

*****

NB: I am planning to make this a lengthy-ish story. I've realised that it's chapter 6 and there hasn't been any slash. There will be slash eventually, but I really need to give Harry and Snape a reason to be slashy to each other and, well, they don't actually have a reason yet. They will though. And it'll be a good one. Believe me. 

Also the action starts to pick up in this chapter and there will be more action in it from this point on. Much more. HEAPS more. Can't give any more away, sorry. J

CHAPTER 6

It had been about three and a half months since Harry had come to Hogwarts. He had found it quite easy to fall into a routine revolving around preparing his classes and his own private studies and amusements. The fact that he was so well preoccupied at the castle was helping Harry to cope with the loss of Greg immensely. He would still have moments where he thought he would drown in his pain, but these were becoming less frequent since he kept himself busy. His pain had settled into a heavy ache that he carried in his heart, but it no longer overwhelmed and threatened to incapacitate him. 

He'd gone out for drinks with Tony, who seemed anxious to make sure that Harry was coping, at their favourite pub about a month ago.

"How're you doing?" asked Tony, seriously.

Harry paused before answering. "I think I'll get there, Tony."

"You'd better, because Greg would have a fit if you didn't."

Harry nodded into his drink. "Yeah, maybe." Tony was right. Greg had had an enormous love of life and a bright, fun loving spirit. He'd hate it if Harry could never pick himself back up again.

Tony ordered another drink and directed a searching look at Harry, who drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly before looking at Tony with such a piercing look of honesty and sadness that Tony felt it tug at his heart strings.

"At first, I felt like I couldn't breathe, and I thought I was going to lose my mind. Do you know what I mean?" Harry paused and looked at Tony. "I even had half a mind to join him."

"I wouldn't have let you, but go on." Tony said evenly, looking closely at Harry. 

"But now I've taken some time away, and I'm keeping myself really busy. I mean, I'm always planning something or doing something and, just lately, I've found that sometimes hours have gone by where I haven't had the time to stop and think about Greg at all." _Not surprising. Between planning lessons, teaching and being interrogated by half of the teaching staff it's a wonder I've got any time to myself at all, _Harry qualified to himself.  "I mean, I can still _feel _him, if you know what I mean. But I haven't really stopped to _think_." Harry stopped to drink from his glass again. Tony stayed silent, allowing Harry to say what he needed to get off his chest without interruptions.  "A couple of times, something's happened and I've laughed, been a little bit happy, and then I remember Greg and I catch myself because I feel guilty for being happy when Greg… moved on… only about three and a half months ago."

"Why on earth should you feel guilty for being happy?" asked Tony. He needed to make sure Jason wouldn't drown in his grief, and his friend had just provided him with an opportunity to do it.

"Well, Greg meant more to me than that. It's an insult -"

"Jason. I'll admit that you never seemed so happy as when you and Greg were in the same room together, but let me ask you, was Greg the _only _thing that made you happy?"

"Well, no, but -"

"No buts. I know it's only been about fourteen weeks Jason. I'm not saying that you shouldn't still be feeling for Greg, but there's no reason to feel guilty about getting enjoyment from doing something that makes you happy. There is, however, every reason to feel guilty for letting Greg's memory drag you down to the point where you just don't _want _to be happy again. He wasn't about that. He loved you. He'd hate to think he was making you so unhappy."

"I guess – maybe you're right…"

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right." Tony replied, grinning broadly. Harry stifled a laugh. "So promise me that you'll go easy on yourself, o.k.," said Tony, more seriously. 

_Yeah, that'll be easy with everyone breathing down my neck at Hogwarts every time I turn the corner. _"I'll try."

"You'd better, otherwise I'll have to – what was it Greg always threatened to do to you? Oh yeah – I'll have to find a way to -"

"-hurt me in ways that a man should never be hurt," finished Harry fondly. He turned to Tony and simply said "Thanks." No more words were necessary. Harry was a survivor. He'd survive this. 

*****

He was eventually able to put aside his need for sleeping tablets and headache medication. He was honest enough with himself to be able to admit that they had been a crutch when his grief had initially threatened to overwhelm him, but he was beginning to cope on his own now, and he still enjoyed such things as visiting muggle London on some of his free weekends, like he was doing today. He'd sometimes indulge himself in a muggle shopping spree, splurging on muggle sweets and buying more exercise equipment for himself, but more often than not, he'd drop into his pharmacy and see how it was running. If Tony was the pharmacist on duty, he'd arrange to have lunch with his good friend. 

It seemed that since he'd lost Greg, Harry was spending more time with Tony than he had in the past. Tony knew that his friend was reaching out for emotional support and stability and he had no objections to being there for him. They had been the closest of friends since the day they met in their first class together and he knew that his friend would do the same for him in a pinch. 

"So this is some sort of 'alternative remedy' thing, is it?" asked Tony lightly, as he handed Harry a cup of tea and settled into a chair opposite him in the staff room at the back of Harry's pharmacy. 

He had been spending many hours lately in his rooms researching potions and comparing his study of potions to the study of pharmacology. Though he'd been an excellent student of potions during his period of training, now that he had the advantage of having studied the muggle equivalent of pharmacology, he was able to understand potions in an entirely new way. Different avenues of research opened themselves up to him.  He tried to explain to Tony, in vague terms, what he'd been doing.

"Yeah, you could say that," answered Harry. _Well to a muggle, you don't get much more 'alternative' than potions, do you?_ He justified to himself.

"Why are you even bothering tinkering around in that sort of stuff though? Herbal remedies and naturopathy have their place certainly, but medication is faster and more effective, Jason."

_Herbal remedies and naturopathy. Yeah, right. Potions will be the new 'alternative remedy', my friend, at least if I have anything to do with it when I get back, _Harry thought idly to himself. He had spent many evenings trying to think of a way he could conceivably stock potions in his pharmacy when he returned without raising undue suspicion. Some potions looked like herbal remedies and they would be inconspicuous on the shelves of his pharmacy, but some of the more potent ones that he wished to introduce to muggle London smoked from their vials and _that _could raise a few eyebrows. And so, he had come to realise that when he finished his year of teaching at Hogwarts, he didn't want to disappear from muggle London and leave behind everything he had worked for since the war ended. He turned his attention back to the conversation. 

"But wouldn't it be great if we could make medications that were a bit easier on the body? Wouldn't it be great if, say, cancer patients could take the medication and not have to deal with all of the side effects?" asked Harry. 

"It _would _be great, but it _can't _be done Jason. You know that as well as I do." He paused and narrowed his eyes at his friend, "You're not turning 'herbalist' on me are you, because you know I don't want to hear that sort of language, young man," countered Tony using a tone of voice that sounded oddly like their favourite university professor.

"No way.  We only do the _hard _drugs in this pharmacy," teased Harry.

"Damn straight!" Tony laughed and rang out his agreement. "Good thing we got that settled. For a minute I thought you were going soft!"

"I'm hurt!" exclaimed Harry in mock outrage. He paused. "But seriously, if we could control -"

"Tony, could you come here please. It's quite urgent. We've got a... um... situation," pleaded one of the pharmacy assistants. Tony looked apologetically at Jason. 

"Sorry about this. Do you want to wait here or come back in a little while? Or, do you want to help me deal with this? After all, it's _your _pharmacy," offered Tony.

"That's alright, Tony. I'm on holiday, remember? I'll just wander around outside for a while. I haven't done all of my Christmas shopping anyway. I'll be back soon," said Harry good naturedly. Diffusing altercations between students was a good part of his job as a Hogwarts Professor, so he had no intention of voluntarily getting involved in any sort of dispute resolution on his day off.

Harry left the pharmacy, and looked up and down the street. What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. On the footpath on the other side of the mall were Professors McGonagall, Snape, Weasley and Weasley, all dressed in muggle clothing – which, Harry thought, looked odd on Minerva and Severus. Severus was dressed in a grey long sleeved shirt and black trousers while Minerva was dressed in a peach coloured blouse and a black medium length skirt which sat just above her knees. Severus looked, well, almost normal. Harry had never seen him in any other colour than black, but he looked odd without his robes. Minerva just looked weird. He had only ever seen her in her full length black robes and her full length dresses and wizards robes. _So _that's _what she looks like underneath her robes! _Harry thought with cheeky amusement. He had seen Ron and Hermione in muggle attire many times when they were younger, so they didn't really look odd at all. 

_What on earth are they doing _here?! he thought, completely puzzled. _I'll believe that Albus is a pin-up boy for Playgirl__before I believe that they're all good friends and doing Christmas shopping in London, _thought Harry in shock, as he ducked out of sight around a nearby corner and continued to watch them. He had removed his concealment charms so he had to be careful. After all, he couldn't very well allow them to see Harry Potter across the street, could he?

*****

"Oh stop muttering Severus," Minerva snapped irritably. 

"We shouldn't need to keep doing this every weekend. I can understand that Albus was concerned about reports of an outbreak of violence around London, and I can understand that he suspected that it may have been more than just a surge of muggle violence. But we have already investigated the situation. And months later we are _still _investigating the situation for Albus. We could be doing other things. This is a waste of time," muttered Snape quietly to his companions. 

"Albus is concerned because the violence is still continuing and the muggle police haven't been able to do anything about it. Albus thinks that they might be baffled because there's magic involved, which muggles won't account for. It can't hurt to keep an eye out. It is ultimately better to be safe than sorry, Severus," replied Minerva sagely.

"I never thought I'd ever say this," added Ron, "but I'm with Severus on this one. We've been at this just about every Saturday morning and afternoon, for months. Muggles have people to do this sort of thing for pity's sake. All the evidence that we've seen points to all the incidents being entirely muggle related. So why are we still here?" ended Ron, clearly annoyed.

"Ron, I agree with Minerva, we can't be too careful," said Hermione sternly.

"Yes we can," Ron muttered quietly enough so that his wife couldn't hear it.

Their attention was suddenly drawn to the small café a little further down the mall from where they were standing. People were running out of it in varying degrees of fright and distress. The four professors took advantage of the confusion to creep into the café and survey the scene before them. Several young men looked to be assaulting the staff of the café. They were yelling at the staff to move into one of the corners of the room threatening them with an assortment of weapons – knives, steel bars, cricket bats and the like. The scene was truly appalling.

The weaponry suggested to the four professors that this was an entirely muggle incident, and as such, there would be no need to risk using magic to diffuse the situation. And they _would _help, no questions asked, because none of them wanted to see anybody get hurt. Albus knew this and as such, he had provided them with muggle items to use in their efforts to contain any 'incidents' and to protect themselves, should they feel threatened and unable to rely on magic. But, he had warned them, in no uncertain terms, that they must not be discovered as wizards and witches. Magic was only to be used when faced with _no other choice_. 

Having diffused several of these sorts of incidents in the time that they had spent patrolling this area, they were by now quite adept at this sort of thing. In all the confusion Ron and Hermione threw minature canisters of sleeping gas into the café, which Albus had provided for them in a situation arose which might be contained without the use of magic, while Minerva and Severus kept an eye on the crowd, ready to create a disturbance to draw the crowd's attention away from them should anyone spot what they were doing. Once this was done, they all ducked out to hide in the crowd. The people in the café were affected almost immediately and passed out. The people in the crowd outside could see the gas and were too scared to go in. It didn't take long for the police to arrive on the scene and take the perpetrators into custody. They were a little puzzled about the empty canisters of sleeping gas that they found in the café, but no one from the crowd could tell them how they came to be there. 

They moved away from the café. "Don't say it, Severus."  Minerva sighed. The four professors continued patrolling their given area, feeling very irritable and frustrated and wishing that the day would hurry along. 

*****

If the four professors had seen what Harry had seen, they wouldn't have let their guards down so quickly.

When the activity at the café had broken out, Harry had run further along the mall on his side of the street, to get a better look. From his position he could see people running out of the café, or being pushed out of it. But he also saw that something was happening in the narrow alley just a little further down. Someone was being pulled into the alley. Harry's battle trained responses took over. He thought he would have forgotten his training by now, since it had been so long since he'd had to rely on it, but it all came back to him. Outwardly, he appeared calm but inwardly, almost reflexively, his mind began to work very quickly and his body tensed for action. 

He was fully trained to be able to take care of himself in battle without the use of his wand. He was skilled at several forms of hand to hand combat, and he was capable of performing wandless magic. However, he still debated with himself about whether he should go over there and put a stop to it. The voice of one of his old instructors rang in his head: 

_"Sometimes, just because you _can _do something, doesn't necessarily mean that you _should_. Kick your brain into gear before you kick your body into gear."_

He considered the situation before him. In this case, there were too many people in the vicinity and he would draw too much attention to himself. The last thing he needed was to be arrested over a misunderstanding. In any case the police would be able to take care of the situation. While he was mentally debating the matter, he moved so he could get a better view of what was happening in the alley, and he saw now that two men were holding the young lad against the wall, and another man was pointing something at him. Harry reeled in shock when he recognised that it was a _wand _that was being pointed at the young man. 

_A wand?!__ What on earth is a wizard doing here? And what's he doing to that man?_ Harry had resolved to take matters into his hands at this point, determined to prevent the wizard from hurting the muggle. Many muggles had been killed and tortured for sport during the war by the dark wizards and this made Harry's blood boil.  All attention was drawn to the café, so he was able to create a concealment charm for himself without drawing suspicion.

Before he could move, Harry saw that the wizard had muttered a spell at the young lad, and the two men had released his arms. _Bugger.__ I'm too late. If this bloody crowd wasn't here…_ Harry thought regretfully. If Harry was expecting the muggle to have been tortured or killed in that alley, he would have been mistaken. After he was hit with the spell, the victim didn't move. _What on earth?_  thought Harry, willing the young man to get himself clear of the men in the alley. But he didn't move. He just stood there, looking expectantly at the wizard, who pointed his wand at one of the sleeves of the victim's shirt and muttered a spell. _What was that? Does he have a problem with his clothing? How finicky can you get?_  The wizard then gave the victim a long steel bar and pointed for him to leave. The lad took it and ran toward the café. He pushed his way through the crowd and ran inside the café, swinging his weapon.  When Harry had turned his eyes back to the alley, the men were no longer there and it didn't look like he was in the immediate area. Unsure of what to do, he remained where he was and just kept an eye on the scene at the café. 

A short time later, the police had arrived and taken the young men who had caused the incident into custody. They were seated in the back of the police wagon.

Harry shook his head to clear it. He needed to think about what he had just seen. He turned to make his way to a small café further up the mall, but out of the corner of his eye he saw that the wizard from the alley was standing at the back door of the police wagon. He had his wand pointed at the occupants in the back of the wagon. A moment later, a small flash of light was seen and the wizard ran up the street.

Harry had a bad feeling about all of this. _Didn't anyone else see that? Is everyone blind?_ But no one was blind, their attention was simply still focused on the café. The owners were assuring everyone that everything would be ready for business in just a couple of hours and many people from the crowd were offering to help put the café back together. 

He wandered over to another café further up the mall but didn't remove his concealment charms. Minerva, Severus, Ron and Hermione were still wandering around the mall and he didn't want them to recognise either Harry or Jason. He just needed to puzzle out what was happening. Ordering a cappuccino he settled down at one of the small tables to think. The whole thing reminded him of a cheesy show that he and Greg had gone to see at one of the local clubs, where a number of people had been led onto the stage and hypnotised,  and asked to perform a number of bizarre and ridiculously embarrassing tasks. He spooned some of the cappuccino froth into his mouth, but a moment later he choked on it - sending his spoon flying off the table - when he suddenly realised the significance of the similarity. 

He smiled sheepishly at the waitress who immediately brought him over another spoon. There was a bit of fumbling between the two as they both reached for the spoon, then, noticing the other person, both retreated, then both reached in again, bumping heads and hands. _Oh for the love of God,_ _can't I go for _one day _without making a fool of myself? _Blushing with embarrassment, he thanked the waitress and apologised for his clumsiness. She smiled and left him on his own.

_Oh my God,_ thought Harry, _he was casting the Imperius curse. Well, it _looked _like he was casting the Imperius. _He furrowed his brow in concentration. _So, if that's the case, were _all _the men who were causing trouble in the café under Imperius?_ Harry shook his head in an effort to clear it and sipped at his cappuccino. _And to top it all off, the waitress now either thinks that I've got a thing for her, or that I'm certifiable_, he mused to himself.  

_Come on Potter, you used to do this sort of thing all the time. Right, suppose that it _was _the Imperius curse. It still doesn't explain why the wizard was paying attention to that guy's clothes, of all things. Had it gone out of style,__or did he just not like the colour? _Harry thought facetiously. _And _what _are Minerva, Severus, Ron and Hermione doing here?_

Harry sat for some time staring out of the window, turning the incident over in his mind, before he realised that he was supposed to meet up with Tony again. Harry quickly drained his cappuccino and paid for his drink before moving quickly to meet up with his friend.

*****

He'd removed his concealment charms before he reached the pharmacy. "Jason! Where were you? I half thought that you'd been caught in that trouble over at the café and ended up getting attacked or something," said Tony as he and Harry walked to the staff room. 

"Gosh, I didn't know you cared," gushed Harry, poking fun at his good friend. "I wasn't involved, but I was further up the street watching it," he said more seriously.

"You picked a good time to be away from all of this Jason, because that sort of thing's been happening a lot around here lately," said Tony as he shook his head. Harry's eyes widened in concern for the safety of his friend. Tony saw this and quickly added, "Well, not all _here _necessarily, but all over town." 

Harry made himself a cup of tea and sat down across the table from Tony. "Why? Is it a Christmas crime spree thing?" Harry blew on his tea. 

"No. At least, no one seems to think so. The papers say that all of these people going around doing this sort of thing are part of a gang. They've all got some sort of gang symbol on their clothing somewhere," answered Tony, reaching for a biscuit.

"On their _clothes_? Don't gangs normally tattoo their symbols onto them_selves_?" asked Harry.

"Well, I don't know, but this gang tattoos its symbols onto its clothes- the back pockets of jeans baseball caps, shirt sleeves, backs of shirts - that sort of thing. Maybe this gang doesn't like pain. Tattoos really _hurt _Jason. I should know," offered Tony, puffing up his chest and remembering his own harrowing tattoo experience. Harry laughed along with Tony as he remembered this. Tony had wanted to tattoo his grandmother's name onto his arm in beautiful cursive script after she had died. Harry thought this was a lovely gesture and volunteered to go with Tony to get it done. He hadn't counted on the fact that Tony was an absolute whimp. He had fainted when the tattooist was only half way through the name, which was quite funny because his grandmother's name only had three letters. Her name was 'Amy'.

_Could that be what the wizard was doing to the fellow in the alley when he pointed his wand at his shirt sleeve? Why would he go to all the trouble?_  Harry was puzzled but outwardly appeared calm. He continued to sip his tea.

"The gangs have never really been this active before. Does anyone know what brought it on?" 

"I agree. I don't remember them being a real threat to people who didn't go looking for them. I mean, not that I've ever gone looking for them. But now they're harassing shop owners, old ladies, no one's safe from them." Tony paused to sip his tea. "And, the papers have been saying that when they're taken in for questioning, they all swear black and blue that they don't remember what they did -"

"They don't _remember _anything?" asked Harry intently.

"No. Well that's what they _say_, but I mean, a lot of people say that to avoid confessing, right?"

"Yeah," agreed Harry weakly. Internally, his brain had kicked into overdrive, processing all of this information and adding it to the information he already had. 

 After a pause, Harry asked with concern "But you've never been attacked, have you? I mean, they haven't hit here have they?" He cared about his friend and his staff and he didn't want them to get hurt.

"No. We've been lucky," Tony assured Harry.

"Good."

Harry had lunch with Tony at a small restaurant a few streets down. Before he returned to the school, he placed a few charms on his pharmacy that would alert him if it was ever under attack, making a few small gestures with his hand as we walked beside Tony.

*****

Once he returned to the castle and reached his rooms he placed a number of charms on the door, including a silencing charm, one to reflect spells cast at the door and, from force of old habits, a charm to let him know when people were approaching. He replaced the complicated locking spells that he had removed when he had unlocked his door. He kept them more or less permanently on his door to discourage people from magically unlocking his door and letting themselves into his rooms without his permission. Besides it being the height of rudeness, he couldn't, for obvious reasons, allow people to stumble upon certain things that were often kept out in plain sight in one or another of his rooms. 

His eyes were a little sore, so he retrieved his glasses and went to the bathroom to remove his contact lenses. He then settled himself into his armchair to think back to what he'd seen. He was almost positive that he had seen a wizard cast the Imperius curse, which was illegal in the wizarding world and warranted a life sentence in Azkaban. But that was beside the point at the moment. 

The people involved in the incident today had probably had their clothing modified to bear a gang symbol. If that was the case, it would, without a doubt, appear to the muggle world that a gang of young men were hell-bent on committing all sorts of crimes across London. What's more, Tony's information about how no one could remember what they had done when being questioned by the police made Harry suspect that they had had their memories of the event erased. It seemed obvious that the wizard must have obliviatedthe young men today when he cast a spell on them in the back of the police wagon. This would explain the dilemma the police seemed to be confronted with and it would also eliminate the possibility of the young men raising the wizarding community's suspicions that wizards were orchestrating these occurrences in the muggle world. 

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he got up to make himself a coffee. He was getting a concentration headache and experience had taught him that coffee would help. _Mind you, if I have much more coffee today I'm liable to be sent to the hospital wing with a caffeine overdose_, he thought wryly to himself, as he brought his steaming mug over to his armchair and settled himself into it comfortably. He blew on his coffee and looked at the picture of himself and Greg which was proudly displayed on his mantelpiece. He smiled. Greg used to laugh good-naturedly at the number of concentration headaches that Harry seemed to have...

"I've heard that thinking can be painful for people who aren't used to doing it Jason, but you tend to take it to an extreme!"  he'd say and then he'd laugh, and Harry couldn't help but laugh too. 

"You were always very good at riddles and puzzles, Greg," he said to the framed picture "but I think that this one would test even you." Harry observed to the picture. Harry felt safe displaying his photographs so openly because he knew that no body was going to be able to get circumvent all of the spells on his door.

In addition to this, the Headmaster customarily gave his professors the choice of either having the house elves clean their rooms or of cleaning it themselves. Some professors, like the Astronomy professor, who had complicated working models of the solar system and detailed and fragile charts scattered across her quarters, and Professor Snape, who had delicate vials and dangerous potions and substances strewn across his rooms, preferred that the house elves not tidy for them. Housekeeping spells were simple to perform and they sufficed to keep the occupant's rooms tidy. When faced with the option, Harry had chosen to clean his own rooms but in the weeks before he'd put the pictures up, he'd placed a spell on his rooms to let him know if anybody was in the rooms at any time, just to make sure that the house elves had remembered not to enter his rooms. He had never been alerted to anybody's presence in his rooms at any time, so he considered it safe to display his photographs. 

Sighing, he returned to the problem at hand. _The muggle papers have reported these incidents as part of a surge of gang violence. That's obviously not what it is. So, the motivation is clearly to mislead. But why?_ Harry sipped his coffee again and stared at the empty fire place in front of him. By all accounts it was all so strange. Leaning forward to sip his coffee again he forgot to remove the teaspoon first and poked himself in the glasses, driving that side of his glasses back into his face. _Good Lord, I'm more of a danger to myself than Voldemort ever was. It's a good thing I was wearing glasses, how would I have explained _that _to Madam Pomfrey?_

Harry laughed at himself. He had been trying to poke his eye out with a teaspoon ever since his instructor in tactics and strategy had introduced him to coffee during the early months of his grueling training. His trainer had often joked that Harry had chalked up more coffee related injuries than Voldemort related injuries during his first three months of training. After those three months, of course, he began his fieldwork, and that particular piece of lighthearted humour wasn't often heard. His trainer, a middle-aged man called David Weatherly was a highly skilled tactician. His strategies were always as water tight as anyone could make them, because he thought as far ahead as he could and tried to consider all possibilities and consequences. He had been a very good teacher and had drilled into Harry the lesson that a good strategy could save countless lives, which ultimately motivated him to think his plans though very carefully. He wished that his teacher were here. He'd be able to puzzle it out, or at the very least, between the two of them they would be able to come up with a working theory. 

_What if I was doing something that I wanted to keep a secret, and I was using the gang violence incidents to divert everyone's attention, like a front, or a cover?_ That was possible, and it certainly wouldn't be the first time this sort of thing had been done. _What if I thought I could set the gang violence up so well that I could walk in and start committing my own crimes in the background of all of the confusion and panic?_ A very bad feeling was creeping into the pit of Harry's stomach. History had taught Harry that muggles had done this sort of thing plenty of times during both World Wars. He put his mug down on the table next to his armchair. _What if I take this out of a purely muggle context? What if I was a _wizard _and walked into __London__ and started committing my own crimes in and amongst the fuss that's already been created? No one would notice me. They wouldn't notice until it was too late._ Harry chilled at the implications of that train of thought.

_So, who one earth would, or _could_, do this?_ Harry stirred his coffee idly. The subtlety of the idea was reminiscent of the plans and schemes that Voldemort had implemented during those terrible years during the war. But Voldemort was dead. _Mind you, Voldemort didn't have the monopoly on cunning and intelligence. _Harry shook his head. He'd been out of contact with the wizarding world for about eight years, and he wasn't familiar enough with the people who were currently active in this world to even be able to guess who might be behind this chapter of activity. He needed information, but wasn't really in a position to be privy to information of such a sensitive nature.

Harry was interrupted by a knock on his door. _Bugger.__ Who on earth could be calling so early?_  His spells had alerted him to the approach of a single person, but he often ignored the warning because most people walked right past his door. He rarely had visitors. When he checked his watch he found, to his astonishment, that it was already a little after 4:00 in the afternoon. "I'm coming!" Harry yelled out as he went to the bathroom to put his concealing charms back in place and put his contacts in. He managed to poke himself in the eye about a half dozen times in his rush to put them in and he cursed on his way to answer the door. He checked the rooms to make sure that there was nothing suspicious out in plain sight and stopped when he saw the picture on the mantelpiece. As he always did when before he answered his door, he made a small gesture with his hand and used his magic to swap that picture with the one of Greg on his own, which was in his study. He couldn't leave a photograph showing Harry Potter in his lounge room, but a single photograph would look innocent enough. Satisfied that everything looked harmless enough, he opened the door.

Harry opened to door to find Ron standing in the door way looking tired and cranky. "Ron, come in." _I see he made it back from __London__._ thought Harry. 

Ron was one of the only people who visited Jason in his rooms. Harry's lack of visitors didn't concern him. In fact, he preferred things that way. The teaching staff at Hogwarts had come to accept him as one of their own, even if they didn't completely trust him. However, Professor Snape and Harry avoided one another wherever possible. The other professors, while not exactly pleased with the hostility between them, were quite happy to settle for a lack of open hostility from them both.  To Harry's delight, the Professors Weasley had not only accepted him, but had also befriended him. When Ron had discovered that "Jason" shared his love of quidditch, he found himself receiving frequent invitations to watch quidditch matches with him. Hermione did not often watch the quidditch matches with the boys, but she had harboured a keen interest in learning about Defence Against The Dark Arts since her school days and enjoyed discussing various related subjects with "Jason".  She was also pleased to find that "Jason" shared her interest in potions and transfiguration and they spent endless hours talking about the latest developments in the fields. 

The friendship that he was forming with Ron and Hermione eased some of the pain of loss inside him. It didn't, however, ease the guilt he felt about leaving them with no explanation that night so many years ago. He had considered, on a couple of occasions, telling them everything and revealing his identity to them. He couldn't bring himself to do it though. He knew, without question, that they would keep his secret if he asked them to; but he also knew that they would never let him return to the muggle world when the time came to leave again. And he still wanted to return to the muggle world. He couldn't live here, shrouded with concealment charms and surrounded by secrecy and suspicion for the rest of his life. The wizarding world had never understood him and it had not been kind to the boy-who-lived. He could be himself in many ways in the muggle world and he was afforded a freedom that he would never find in the wizarding realm. So he kept his secret, though it pained him to know that he would never share the camaraderie with them that he once had.

"Hi Jason, just thought I'd drop in. I've spent the day with cranky people and I thought I'd pop in to see a friendly face." Harry showed Ron into the lounge room and asked him to sit down. "Would you like some coffee?" asked Harry.

"Love some, thanks. Black with two please."

As Harry prepared the coffee for Ron – and the orange juice for himself, he felt he'd overdone it with the caffeine already today – he considered adding a drop of veritaserum to the coffee so he could finally get some concrete answers. He had a lot of questions that needed answering and he knew that Ron was in a position to be able to answer some of them. But he decided against it at the last minute. For some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to violate his friend's trust like that. Besides, veritaserum was faintly bitter and the taste may or may not be disguised by the coffee. Ron and Hermione had assisted the aurors during the war and they might have been trained to recognise the effects of veritaserum on the body and to recognise the faint tang it left in the mouth. Harry didn't know how good Ron was, because he was never permitted to see them from the time he was taken for training, so he didn't want to take his chances. 

He brought the drinks over to the coffee table and invited Ron to help himself. 

"What have you been doing with yourself all day?" asked Ron politely. 

"Oh, nothing really. I caught up with a friend at lunch but that was about all," Harry replied. Ron had given him the perfect opening to fish for information and he sipped his coffee, carefully considering how he would approach his next line of questioning. 

"How about you?" asked Harry.

"Nothing really. Just spent the day Christmas shopping with some friends. I think we might have spent too long in each other's company because everyone was a bit cranky by the end of it. It could have been the weather though, you never really know," answered Ron evasively, sipping his coffee. Harry looked carefully at his friend's face and his body language. He nearly laughed. _Wow, Ron even managed to look half convincing that time. He could never lie before. Some things _do _change_. He suddenly saddened at the thought of the circumstances that had forced his best friend to change in such a way.

"Yes, I haven't quite finished my Christmas shopping either. It's a good thing most of the students have gone home for the holidays and we don't have to teach for a while. I'll be able to get it done before too long." Harry paused and innocently added, "I managed to get a little bit done today actually, before I went to have lunch in London with one of my muggle friends."

"Oh, is he a pharmacologist too?" inquired Ron.

"Actually he is," Harry paused and added conversationally, "He was telling me that there was a big surge of crime around the area where he lived. Something about gang-related violence."

"Really," asked Ron, who tried to look for all the world as though he had no idea what Harry was talking about, but Harry knew Ron very well and could tell that he was nervous. Harry continued on mercilessly. 

"Yes. He said that they don't seem to be targeting anyone in particular. The violence just seems to be random. He was really quite worried," Harry stated in a deceptively innocent tone. He sipped his juice and watched Ron carefully as listened to this news. 

"Completely understandable, I'd be worried myself. Well, actually I wouldn't be worried, because I'm a wizard and I'd like to think I'd be able to deal with muggle offenders before they got one over me; but if I weren't a wizard, I'd be frightened, so it's completely understandable really." Harry observed Ron's babbling with silent humour. 

"I know you teach muggle studies and you've mentioned that this keeps you in contact with muggles. Have you heard anything about this crime surge? I mean I told my friend that these things usually pass after a little while, but you wouldn't know whether it's likely to pass any time soon, or anything like that, would you?" asked Harry, perhaps going a little overboard with the innocent routine, but Ron didn't seem to notice. 

"No. I've heard about the crime surge but nothing specific, sorry. But this _does _lead me to the second reason I came here today. I was wondering if you would be a guest speaker in my muggle studies class. I've never come across a pharmacologist before and I wanted to know how you'd feel about giving a guest lecture on muggle medications and pharmacology. Um, I know it means preparing an additional class and so I feel bad for asking, but I was really hoping you'd agree to do it. It'd be dead interesting." Ron asked hopefully. And Harry's chance to fish for information passed. 

They talked about inconsequential things for a little while. Quidditch, Christmas, Hogwarts, anything and everything and nothing in particular. After about 40 minutes, Hermione knocked on Harry's door. She had come looking for Ron and she seemed quite cross, but she brightened when Harry opened the door. 

"Come in Hermione. Ron's here too. We were just chatting. You're looking a bit knackered. Like some coffee?" offered Harry.

"Yes, please. White with one, thanks," Hermione called out as she took a seat by Ron. "Why did you leave early Ron? You were supposed to stay with us a little longer," hissed Hermione quietly after she had checked that Harry was in his kitchenette and wouldn't be able to hear them. What she didn't know was that Harry had extremely sharp hearing, and he had crept a bit closer to them in a bid to discern what they were saying.

"Ssh, Hermione. Jason's right there," Ron whispered, pointing in Harry's direction. 

"He can't hear anything from where he is, and it's not as though I'm yelling this conversation about is it?" she hissed.

"Fine. I was cranky and tired and I'm sick to death of doing the same pointless thing week after week. We've checked it out. There's nothing there. So why are we still doing it? I'm not a bloody muggle policeman!" Ron said softly in frustration, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Because we volunteered to help Albus keep order. We were given our marching orders and we'll do it because we know that whatever Albus does, he does for good reasons," said Hermione in exasperation.

_What does he suspect?_ Harry asked himself, as he appeared in the lounge room with a cup of coffee for Hermione. 

"So how has your day been, Jason?" asked Hermione, blowing on her coffee.

_Perfect. Now, I wonder if _she'll _give up anything_. "Just fine, thanks Hermione. I was just telling Ron that I caught up with one of my muggle friends for lunch in London today." Harry paused to look at Hermione while pretending to sip from his fresh glass of orange juice. Hermione paused in her sipping but gave no other indication that she had been surprised. 

"He was mentioning that there's quite a crime surge happening there right now. He's a little concerned. I told him that these things generally seem to pass though and that hopefully that would happen here. I asked him to look after himself though. I mean, you can't be too careful when you're dealing with these sorts of people, can you." Said Harry.  

"You're quite right, Jason. My parents have told me about the crime spree about London and I've told them to do the same thing. You know, no going out after dark, or on their own, keep their windows and doors locked at all times, that sort of thing. I hope it ends soon." Hermione paused to sip at her coffee. "The police will catch them though. I mean, it's been going on for a while, they'll be sure to have a few good leads and they'll sort it all out soon," said Hermione, perhaps a little too quickly.

"My friend told me that the papers keep saying the police are completely in the dark about this one and that everyone who's questioned over the incidents keeps denying that they know anything at all," said Harry. Hermione couldn't think of anything to say in reply, so Harry saved her the necessity. "But I'm sure that the police couldn't really tell the press if they did have any good leads, because they'd chase them off, wouldn't they?  I'm sure it'll be sorted out soon," said Harry amiably. 

"Yes," agreed Hermione. She set her mug down and looked around the room. She had never actually been inside Harry's rooms before. She had been to his rooms to pass on messages about staff meetings and the like, but this was the first time she had been invited inside. She loved the blue décor. Blue was Hermione's favourite colour as well. Her eyes fell on the picture of Greg on the fireplace mantle. Hermione was curious but couldn't think of a polite way of asking who it was. Harry looked up from his drink to notice her looking at the picture.  He saved her the awkwardness of asking.

"Do you remember when I told you during the welcoming feast that someone close to me had passed away recently? That's him." Harry put his drink down and got up to bring the picture down so Hermione could have a closer look. Harry wouldn't have been able to do that a couple of months ago, but he found that he could do it now. Hermione took the picture and looked closely at it. 

"He looks like a very nice man," she observed. "He's got very kind eyes."

Harry smiled fondly. He'd noticed the same thing the first time he met Greg, all those years ago. "He was a _very _nice man. He was very good-natured, and generous. And you're right. He was very, very kind."

"Was he a pharmacologist, like you?" asked Ron, who seemed to be fixated with the idea of all of Harry's acquaintances being pharmacologists. 

Harry smiled and shook his head. "No, he was a chef. A really good one. He worked at this fancy restaurant in London and I met him the first time I went there to eat. The meal was great so I went in to complement the chef and that's how we met."

Hermione looked back to the picture. "He's really a very attractive man." she observed. 

"Hermione! Geez, do you need me to leave the room so you can talk freely about this?" cried Ron, choking on his drink. Harry laughed first at the expression on Ron's face, and then at the expression on Hermione's. "Well he is," she said, without embarrassment. This picture was taken in France wasn't it? I went there on a holiday with my parents years ago, and I remember visiting the Arc de Triumph. I've got a photo somewhere with mum and dad standing in front of it, just like Greg is." 

"Yes. We were in France about a year and a half ago on holiday. He had an uncle there so we stayed with him for about a month. It was great. Greg couldn't speak a word of French. Actually, I couldn't either for that matter, but he insisted on bringing his tourist English to French dictionary with him and having a crack at the language every chance he got. It got to be downright embarrassing being in public with him when he wanted to practice his French. One time, he was trying to ask directions from a young girl and he ended up actually saying something like 'You're bananas are splendid but I like your donkey better.' Something like that. He was completely without shame with things like that." Hermione and Ron were in gales of laughter and Harry smiled. He could feel his chest tightening and his eyes stinging but he knew he wouldn't be crying. It felt good to talk about Greg this way. He hadn't been able to talk about Greg like this very often.

"Was he a wizard?" asked Ron. 

"No, he was a muggle. But he was really good at what he did." _I'll say,_ he thought wickedly to himself.

"I didn't mean anything by it Jason, I was just curious." Harry waived away Ron's apology.

"You said that he died recently," said Hermione gently. 

"Hermione!" hissed Ron. "Don't you think that was a little insensitive?" 

"It's alright Ron. One day, about four months ago, he was making breakfast and we'd run out milk. He'd ducked out to get some milk from the shop on the corner and he told me he'd be back in about half an hour. He was the pedestrian victim of a hit and run accident. Someone drove into him and didn't even stop to see if he was alright." Harry swallowed, feeling the pain shifting about in his chest.

"I'm sorry. Your partner sounded like a wonderful man and I would have really liked to meet him," said Hermione soberly.

"Thank you. I'm sure he would have - did you call him my 'partner'?" asked Harry.

"Yes, wasn't he?"

"How did you know?" 

"You mean he was?" asked Ron, incredulously. 

"Oh Ron, keep up," Hermione chided. Turning to face Jason again she said, "It was just a lot of little things Jason. I mean, you've got a picture of him on your mantlepiece. Ron doesn't keep pictures of his male friends around the house, or our rooms, except for pictures of Harry. You went on holiday together and you lived together. I would have thought you were just roommates if you didn't mention any more than that you lived together but the picture and the holiday just suggested more to me. Was I wrong to say anything?" asked Hermione, suddenly conscious that she may have embarrassed Jason. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I mean, I realise that it might be something you don't want to talk about."

"No, it's fine. Some people are a bit funny about my lifestyle preference is all and I'm usually pretty guarded about things like that. I'm glad you haven't run from the room, though Ron looks decidedly uncomfortable," observed Harry, with a grin to Hermione. 

"Oh Ron, for pity's sake, Jason isn't interested in you like _that_."

"Um, I know, but, um, how can you tell Hermione?" Ron asked nervously, looking everywhere but at either of them and shifting about on his seat. 

"Because he just lost his partner, and because he doesn't look at you the way I look at you, though right now I'm looking at you like I could _hit _you, you conceited ninny!" fumed Hermione. 

"Sorry Jason, I just didn't know what to think for a minute. But of course, it's your lifestyle and your choice and doesn't matter to me whatsoever." With a small pause, he lifted his head and added magnanimously, "You'll still be getting invitations to see the quidditch matches with me." 

"Gee, thanks Ron." Harry said dryly. _Diplomacy never was your strong suit, was it Ron?_ From the look on Hermione's face, she was thinking the same thing. 

The rest of the late afternoon passed in pleasant conversation and they spent so long talking, they were able to walk to the great hall for dinner together. 

*****

On their way to dinner, the trio ran across two students, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, who looked to be fighting and hexing one another. They were making no effort to be quiet and they were so pre-occupied with what they were doing that they didn't hear Harry, Ron and Hermione approach them from one end of the hallway, and Professor Snape approach them from the other end, which led off to the classrooms. The Potions Master was quick to put a stop to the fight. 

"Expelliarmus!" he cried and he caught both of the students' wands as they flew to him. Both students looked up, genuinely startled at the fact that they were surrounded by so many professors. 

"Mr. Brown. I have no patience for this sort of behaviour. Detention in my classroom at 8:00. Don't be late." he said venomously to the young Gryffindor student while the Slytherin student smirked gleefully.

"But, sir -" the student protested, but he was cut off.

"No buts. And don't let me catch you at this again. Now, isn't there somewhere you both should be?" he asked the two students, raising an eyebrow at them.  They both turned to hurry off to dinner, but Harry stopped them.

"Hang on. Come back here."  he said to both of the students, who turned and walked cautiously back to him. Professor Snape simply looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.

When the students were standing in front of their professor, Harry asked very seriously: "Was this a fight between Mr. Brown and Mr. Wallace, or was this a fight between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin?"

"Um…" stammered the Gryffindor.

"Well, you see professor," began the Slytherin by way of explanation, "Peter and I were just studying."

"Studying," Harry repeated, unconvinced.

"Yes, sir. You see, we were just revising some of the spells you taught us in class." the Slytherin replied, throwing an arm around the other student's shoulders and pulling him close to him in a comradely gesture, for effect.

"Really?" asked Harry, sarcastically.

"Of course sir," the young Slytherin replied, with a slightly overdone expression of earnestness. "You see, I respect all of my fellow students, regardless of what house they're in. I really believe that there's so much more to-"

"Yes, thank you Mr. Wallace. I've heard enough." He looked harshly at both of them. "You both know how I feel about this sort of mindless house prejudice. Since Professor Snape is your head of House, it wouldn't be fair to ask him to have to supervise a detention with you, so, Mr. Wallace, you'll see me in my classroom right after dinner this evening. You've obviously forgotten the material that I covered in your first lesson, so I think this evening I should give you another lecture and, just to make sure you remember it this time, I think you should write an essay on the material that I'll cover. Bring plenty of ink and parchment with you. Mr. Brown, " Harry said, turning to face the other student, "since you're already serving detention with Professor Snape, I won't need to see you about this.  I don't want to see you at this again." he said as he headed toward the Great Hall. 

He had only taken a few steps when he turned around to face his students again. "Oh, incidentally Mr. Wallace, you have a lot of work to do if you want to be able to lie convincingly. You embellished your story way too much. It wasn't very believable to begin with but you should always keep a lie simple. You exaggerated your facial expressions and you need to learn to regulate the pitch of your voice as well. You shouldn't sound squeaky when you're trying to explain something." Harry mentioned off hand. "Now aren't you supposed to be at dinner?" 

"Yes, sir," they both said as they hurried off to the Great Hall.

Harry turned to head off in the same direction but he was called back by Professor Snape.

"Professor Green," he began as he strode toward Harry, who was standing beside Ron and Hermione. "There was no need for you to interfere in this matter. I had the situation in hand." 

Harry didn't flinch as the Professor approached him and he looked at him in surprise. "I don't think I _was _interfering, Professor."

"There was no need for you to call the students back once I had already diffused the situation," The Potions Master told Harry coldly and quietly. 

"You didn't diffuse the situation at all, Professor, because you seemed to have missed the fact that _two_ boys were involved in the fight, not just one. You see, you only gave the _Gryffindor_boy detention, when the _Slytherin_boy was as much involved as the other." 

Professor Snape was taller than Harry, and looked coolly down his nose at him, eyes narrowed in disdain. "Do not undermine my authority before the students again, Professor Green." 

Harry stepped forward and met his gaze. "Don't give me a reason to. You're a Hogwarts Professor. You're supposed to be above something as petty as school yard House rivalry." 

The two professors looked at each other for some moments before Harry slowly turned around and made his way to the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione exchanged some quiet words with Professor Snape before following Harry to the Great Hall for dinner.

*****

That night as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about what happened at the mall earlier on in the day, he debated with himself over what to do about it. One part of him wanted nothing to do with it. 

_I'm not going to get involved! This year was supposed to be a year off for me to get myself together again. I'm here to teach. That's all_.  He snorted. _I'm not fooling anyone, I _always _get__ involved, whether I really want to or not. _He knew that it would be selfish to do nothing when he was in a position to be able to help. _But they don't need me anyway. It might all be nothing. They'll be able to handle it all without me. They've been fine so far. _Sighing heavily reasoned to himself, _ Who__ am I kidding? It all feels like it's leading up to something big_. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and shifted onto his side. _What if it _is _something big and they can't handle it?_ he thought.  _I don't want anyone to get hurt, and I _definitely _don't__ want to let anyone die_, he thought as his sense of responsibility kicked in. _AAUUGGHH_! he silently screamed as he turned over onto his stomach and punched his pillow. _I haven't had to worry about things like that since I was 18. Damn it!_

He turned over onto his other side. He ultimately decided to keep an eye on what was happening for a little while. This wouldn't be so difficult since he didn't have classes to teach for a few weeks. If he discovered anything that was _very_ threatening, he would take the information to Albus and offer to help where he could. He didn't quite know how he was going to do that, but he'd figure something out. Having decided on a course of action, Harry tried to sleep. 

*****

Harry had spent the next few days keeping an eye on things in muggle London, in the mall where his pharmacy was. He used concealment charms to use various disguises on each of these occasions so he could avoid being recognised by both the Hogwarts Professors who policing the area for Albus, and the people who worked at his pharmacy, when he happened by there. He was genuinely worried about his friends who worked in his pharmacy so he stationed himself close by, sometimes sitting in the café, sometimes, in the book store, sometimes, just sitting on a bench outside. He wanted to be sure they were safe. But he was also worried about the involvement of wizards in what appeared to be an entirely muggle affair. 

He had noticed that different groups of Hogwarts professors patrolled the mall every day and was curious about their involvement in all of this, but concentrated on keeping his eyes open for signs of unrest. 

He strongly suspected that the wizards were casting Imperius curses and Obliviate spells but his speculations rested on too many assumptions for him to be entirely certain, and experience had taught him that guesswork, regardless of how good it is, is still guesswork and it was always better to be sure about what you knew, or thought you knew. So, when he was finally able to take advantage of the opportunity to verify his speculations arose, he didn't hesitate. When an incident arose at one of the nearby sweet shops, Harry moved quickly toward the crowd and then quite deliberately walked past the small alley where he thought the wizards might have been hiding themselves. 

He quite suddenly found himself being dragged into the alley and pinned by the arms with his back to the wall.  Harry could see that four men were in the alley with him. He was surprised to see that they were all death eaters – or former death eaters as it were. Messrs. Crabbe and Goyle, senior and junior were his captors. Goyle Senior performed the Imperius curse on Harry, and ordered him to run into the crowd that had gathered just a little further down from the alley, and beat the first old lady he could find with the cricket bat that Crabbe senior handed him. Harry idly wondered why he was being given such a childish and unimaginative task, but he reasoned to himself that the four of them had never been the brightest cards in the deck, before turning his attention back to the situation at hand. 

He was able to throw off the Imperius curse easily, but he pretended to have fallen under its influence. He'd been able to throw the curse off since he was 15 so it required no great effort on his part. He had absolutely no intention of doing what they wanted him to do, so he waited patiently while Goyle Senior performed the spell that would create the symbol that supposedly belonged to some sort of gang. While he was doing this, Harry ran through his options on how to proceed at this point. He could take the wizards by surprise and either stun them with his magic or knock them unconscious with the cricket bat that he was holding. _A _very _appealing idea, and it would be well deserved_, thought Harry without amusement. Or, he could simply run out of the alley way and run past the crowd, without hurting anyone, until he found somewhere safe where he could create a different disguise for himself and no one would be the wiser. 

He decided on the first course of action because, on the one hand, quite frankly, he really wanted to hit them. They were taking advantage of muggles and he could never tolerate that sort of behaviour. In addition to this, with any luck, someone would find their bodies and draw attention to them. If luck was shining his way, the Hogwarts Professors who were patrolling the area that day would gather around trying to find out what was happening and recognise the death eaters for who they were. That way, Albus would be informed and would take the appropriate steps. Harry wouldn't need to find a way to let Albus know, and Albus would be able to find out who was behind the orchestration of such a widespread crime spree. _The perfect plan_, thought Harry with satisfaction. 

Did it ever occur to Harry that he might not be able to best four large men in a fight? Never. He had the element of surprise, and a large cricket bat. As it turned out, the fight was over pretty quickly. He managed to have the elder Goyle down with just one swipe of the bat to his head. Goyle had been concentrating on checking the symbol he had placed on the sleeve of Harry's shirt and never saw it coming. The other three, rather than kick into action immediately themselves, stared in surprise and shock at what had just happened. Harry's lightning fast reflexes and recovery time made easy work of them after that. Goyle Junior lunged at him, but Harry easily sidestepped the attack and punched him in the temple, knocking him out cold. At the same time, he blocked the punch that Crabbe junior aimed at his head with his bat and when the assailant cried out in pain, he grabbed his head and slammed it hard into the stone wall of the alley. Crabbe's eyes rolled up into his head and he slid down the wall. Crabbe senior had learned by now that this young man was someone to be reckoned with, and smartly drew his wand from his boot. Harry saw this and sent a kick to Crabbe Senior's head when it was at a convenient level as he bent down to draw his wand.  _Idiots.__ That was just embarrassing._ _You're lucky I wasn't actually too serious about hurting you this time,_ rebuked Harry. 

He removed the gang symbol from his shirt with a gesture of his hand. He didn't bother using his wand and ran out of the alley and tried to alert people to the men in the alley. This turned out to be quite difficult, as the crowd was primarily concerned with the elderly people who had been assaulted and lay on the ground with serious injuries. By the time he had convinced a police officer that he wasn't wasting his time and to look in the alley, the four men had disappeared. The policeman turned slowly to glare at Harry who coughed sheepishly. 

"They were there, sir, I swear they were." Harry tried to explain.

"Uh huh. Right. Get out of here, I've got important things to do. People are injured over there. Did you think about that?" the officer growled at Harry.

"Sorry sir, they must have gotten up on their own." Harry said as he retreated from the scene. He ran up the mall and sat down on a bench. _Bugger.__ Just once I'd like to have those sorts of things happen the way I want them to... at least I know it _was_ the Imperius curse that they were using. So now I know for sure that the muggles are being set up…was it just a coincidence that death eaters are involved? I mean, are the death eaters rallying together again, or does someone just happen to have a few ex-death eaters working for them again? The ones who weren't killed or arrested had to go somewhere, right?_

Harry massaged his temples. He had enough information to seriously consider taking the matter to Albus. The Headmaster had the contacts to be able to gather further information, and the intelligence and wisdom to be able to make sense of the matter where Harry couldn't. He also had information that Harry wasn't privy to and it might shed light on the situation. Harry knew he had no way of getting that information short of forcing it out of someone. He didn't have any of the professors' trust. Ron and Hermione might have befriended him, but they wouldn't trust him with information that Albus had instructed them to keep private. He was fairly certain that he didn't have Albus' trust. He had been too vague with him to be able to inspire confidence in himself. He had no idea that creating a distance between himself and the other professors would backfire on him like this, but he didn't regret his decision to do so. 

He was certain that he couldn't just march into the Headmaster's office and declare what he saw. They had no reason to believe him. Besides, it would be difficult to explain how it is that he came to see something that his professors had missed on their daily patrols. Using his muggle friend as a source of information would be equally as unconvincing. His friend would have no reason to suspect that anything to do with the crime spree was anything other than a series of gang-related offences. And it would be difficult to explain how they came to recognise that a wizard was casting spells. Muggles would rationalise that sort of thing away as a hallucination of some sort unless they had some experience with the wizarding world themselves, and Harry's communications to the Headmaster suggested that he lived as a muggle in London, so his friend would have no reason to suspect that there are any such things as wizards. 

_Could I tell Ron and Hermione... maybe._  He decided he'd toss the problem over a little more when he was back at Hogwarts. 

*****

Harry returned to Hogwarts in time for dinner. He ducked off to his rooms and splashed his face with cold water to clear his head before making his way to the Great Hall and taking a seat. Since most of the students had gone home for the Christmas holidays, only one staff table and one student table had been set up. The rest of the hall had been given over to breathtaking decorations that Albus and Professor Flitwick had seemingly charmed into existence overnight.

After greeting Ron and Hermione, Harry filled his plate and began eating. He had been debating whether to reveal his information for quite some time. He decided that he would test the waters and talk to Hermione and Ron. _Just like in the old days,_ thought Harry wistfully. 

"Hermione, Ron, I was wondering if I could have a word with you," whispered Harry. 

"Of course. Is it important?" said Hermione in surprise.

"Yes. I was hoping I could speak to you after dinner." 

"We're not going to be here after dinner. Ron's brother has been injured at work and we're going to spend a couple of days with his family while he's in hospital… it's not serious," hurried Hermione, who had seen Jason's eyes constrict with concern, "He handles and trains dragons you see, so it's a fairly high risk job. He'll be in the hospital under observation for the next couple of days. We want to see him before we see his family, so we're leaving after dinner," Hermione explained.

"Of course," said Harry. He'd just have to wait until they got back.

"But, if you're not doing anything right now, we can just duck out," offered Hermione. Jason didn't  really have an appetite anyway. He had too much to think about to worry about being hungry. In any case, he had a fully stocked kitchenette back in his suite of rooms, so he would be able to fix something up there. He nodded his agreement to Hermione and the three professors excused themselves from the table and made their way to Hermione's and Ron's rooms. 

Their rooms were a little larger than Harry's and were decorated in various shades of blue, grey, cream and white. Their lounge room furniture was either cream or white and the effect was very 'country style' and very cosy. Ron made some tea, as Harry took a seat opposite Hermione. When Ron returned, he sat by Hermione and waited patiently for Harry to explain. He had decided to tell them what he had seen on the day that he saw Professors Snape, McGonagall and themselves in the mall. It took the better part of half an hour to explain and he was careful to only tell them exactly what he had seen, not what he thought it might mean. He wanted to appear as though he had just seen something suspicious and wanted to bring it to the attention of the right people. 

"Are you sure it was a wizard?" asked Ron.

"Yes. He had his wand out."

"Why did you bring it to _us_?" asked Hermione. Harry had been waiting for this question.

"I didn't know who to see. I guess the Ministry would deal with this sort of thing, but I didn't know if I'd seen enough to alert the Ministry. I mean, it might all be nothing, right? I wouldn't want to waste their time. I thought I'd run it by someone first, to get an independent opinion. What do you think?" asked Harry.

"I don't think you should take it to the Ministry." Hermione said carefully. "They'll probably just brush it off. I mean, you're right. It might all be nothing, but it might be something. As you said, why would wizards be casting spells on people around muggle London?" She looked over at Harry who was still sipping his orange juice "Albus is an advisor to the Ministry. We should take the matter to him. He'll be able to alert the proper people."

"I'll let him know in the morning then," said Harry as he made to leave. 

Ron and Hermione exchanged a quick glance, and Ron carefully said, "Maybe we should let him know now." 

"You don't think it can wait?" Harry responded in mild surprise. 

"It probably can, but you might need us to vouch for you. Um. Some of the professors…might no be inclined to…believe you, Jason…and since we won't be here in the morning... " explained Ron, a little embarrassed. 

"I understand," said Harry, nonplussed. Ron led Hermione and Harry to the Headmaster's seat in the Great Hall. Professor Snape was seated at the end of the staff table when Harry had entered the hall earlier this evening. At the moment, he was seated by Albus. They were both leaning over a book and were deep in conversation. Ron excused himself and leaned in to whisper to Albus.

"My office I think. Shall we go?" he asked Ron, Hermione and Harry. 

"Excuse me Headmaster. I shall, of course, take my leave as you have more pressing matters to attend to." Professor Snape sneered. Harry rolled his eyes. Albus mere said, "Actually Professor Snape, I was hoping you and Minerva would join us." The professor blinked twice, the only outward sign that he had been caught by surprise. He simply nodded to Albus and turned to speak to Minerva. If Harry didn't already know that Minerva and Professor Snape were part of Albus' circle of confidantes and had been diligently patrolling London in an effort to gather information such as Harry was about to pass on, he would have wondered why they had been invited to what was, essentially, a private gathering. 

*****

The group seated themselves in the comfortable chairs that Albus drew for them and Harry explained to the headmaster what he had seen. 

"Are you sure?" asked Albus when Harry had finished explaining. 

Harry sighed.  "Yes. Albus I would gain nothing from fabricating this story." Ron's comment about the lack of trust that he had inspired from the other professors was still at the fore of his mind, so he assumed that Albus was questioning his honesty.  

"I apologise for implying that, but I was merely wondering whether you might have been mistaken," explained Albus. 

"I don't think so, but then again, maybe I was. No one's perfect. But the whole thing is certainly very strange if you're suggesting that it wasn't a wizard in the alleyway. I mean, it'd be odd for a muggle to pull a stick out and start waving it around in that particular way, wouldn't it?" Harry replied.  

"How is it that you happened to see this when other people who were in the same area saw nothing?" asked Professor Snape, a hint of disbelief evident in his voice.

Harry knew that the professor was actually asking him to explain how he saw this when he, Minerva, Ron and Hermione had managed to miss it. With a perfectly straight face he looked at Professor Snape and replied, "I have no idea. I was on the other side of the street when this happened and I just sort of caught it on the edge of my vision." Professor Snape raised an eyebrow but said nothing. 

Harry looked at the Heamaster.  "I mean, I was thinking about going over there to help him because anything might have happened to him, but there were four big guys in the alley and I didn't think I'd be a match for them without my wand. I didn't want to reveal myself as a wizard so I was going to call someone over to help him but then I saw one of the guys draw his wand, so I couldn't really involve muggles after that. I think if I'd leapt into the middle of what they were doing at that stage something terrible might have happened to the guy. I didn't think I could help the situation any since it was so far gone so I just stayed out of it."

"That's fine, Jason. You needn't explain. No one is accusing you of anything," reassured Albus. _I'll bet,_ thought Harry as he caught the look on Professor Snape's face. "Why did you decide to tell me about it?" asked Albus, curiously. 

"I didn't know if what I had seen was something to be concerned about or not. I mean, seeing wizards in muggle London isn't really anything to unusual, but they looked like they were casting spells on people, probably muggles and that made me think about telling someone." Said Harry.

"Yes, but why _me_?"

"I actually told Ron and Hermione, just to see what someone else might have made of what I saw. I was playing with the idea of telling the Ministry of Magic and letting their authorities deal with it, but the Professors convinced me that, since you're an advisor to the Ministry, I should tell you first. They said that you'd be able to decide if it's information that's worth passing on. I wasn't expecting that so many people would need to know, though," said Harry.

"Severus and Minerva are my own advisors on matters of importance, and Mr. Weasley told me that you had something to tell me that might be important," replied Albus calmly.

"I see," nodded Harry. After an awkward silence, Albus thanked him for the information and politely suggested that he may want to return to his dinner or his rooms. Harry left quietly and made his way back to his rooms. 

*****

Rather than head straight back to his rooms, Harry decided to grab something from one of the old storage cupboards hidden away in the castle. It contained items that were very rarely used anymore, but were held in case they could ever be considered useful again. The young professor had been shown this cupboard during his first few days here, and, seeing a few useful items he could use in his classes, had made a mental note to return when he had the leisure. 

He wasn't really hungry and he couldn't think of anything that he really wanted to do right now. It had been a long day, and even though he was tired, it was still early. He'd noticed that there were a few old fashioned dark magic detectors that he wanted to pull out of the cupboard and have a close look at, but so far he hadn't had the time or the inclination to do so. With nothing pressing to attend to right at the minute, the idea of spending a few relaxing hours tinkering with a few dark arts mechanisms appealed to him. People rarely came into this part of the castle as it was mainly a storage area, and he became alert as he turned down one of the dusty corridors and heard what sounded like someone knocking or tapping on something further down the corridor. 

He pulled his wand out of his robes and held it professionally low, his battle instincts taking over yet again. Swiftly and silently his lithe figure moved down the corridor to the source of the noise and was shocked to his core to find a student on the hard stone floor in the middle of what seemed to be a convulsion of some kind. 

He rushed over to the young girl to see if he could help and checked her over. He wanted to take her to the hospital wing, but she was jerking too violently for him to be able to carry her, and all he could do was to turn her on her side and hold her head so that she didn't hurt herself any more by banging it against the stone. He stayed like this for a little while, and when her convulsions began to ease, he picked her up and carried her quickly to Poppy, who did nothing more than make a bed for her to lay in and stay by the side of the bed to watch as the young girl's body began to relax.

"Why aren't you doing anything, Poppy? Surely you have something in this wing that can help her?" 

"Jason, do you know this young lady?"

"Theresa Chan? Fourth Year, Ravenclaw."

"Yes. Did you know that Theresa has epilepsy? She only has a very mild case of epilepsy and she says that she only experiences a very few seizures. She tells me that sometimes she goes for a period of years without experiencing a seizure, and sometimes she may have maybe one or two episodes a year. She says she can feel them coming on and she makes sure she lies down in bed when it happens. I have to admit I don't know much about this condition. It's usually controlled completely by a fairly common potion, so I have honestly, only ever seen a seizure once.

"Isn't the potion working, then?"  

"She's not taking the potion. In fact, she _can't _take it. Tonga tree roots are the primary ingredients in that potion and she's allergic to them. Since she has so few seizures anyway, she just goes without." Poppy stroked the young girl's head. 

Harry absorbed the information and very carefully said, "Poppy, I found her on the ground in one of the corridors near the old storage cupboards. Would she have any business there?"

"No. Students generally aren't allowed into that part of the castle. Some of the things that are held in storage there are a little dangerous, particularly for students." The nurse said, frowning.

There was a short silence while the two adults tried to come to terms with the implications of the situation. Harry was the first to speak, and he spoke in slow, even tones,  "I know you said she only suffers a mild form, but are you sure she doesn't have more seizures than you know about? What I mean is, could she be hiding herself away while she has these seizures? Does she come to you with suspicious cuts or bruises?"

Poppy's eyes widened [suggest adding: _as realisation dawned upon her_] . "Oh good Lord. You may be right. But no one has ever found her before." She looked at the young girl in the hospital bed. "Why didn't she say anything?"

"I have no idea. Maybe, since she can't take the potion she didn't want to draw attention to herself. I imagine it would be fairly embarrassing to be caught in the middle of an episode."

His compassion for the young student overwhelmed him. "Have you tried giving her muggle medication to control the illness? I mean, I know they won't be 100% successful in preventing her seizures but they'll prevent the onset of most of them," explained Harry as he continued to look fixedly at his student.

"Albus has contacted muggle doctors and they've said that if she only has so few seizures, sometimes none for a period of years, that they would recommend not taking the preventative medication. As you said, they won't prevent all of the seizures and she could still end up experiencing as many seizures as she said she was already experiencing. Also, the medication is hard on the liver, and can lead to liver damage. Since Theresa's case was so mild, everyone agreed that it would be best for her not to risk damaging her liver for something that wouldn't make too much difference in the number of seizures she had.

"But it's clear now that she might not be telling the truth, so I think we should look into using the muggle preventatives in Theresa's case." Harry said thoughtfully. 

Theresa stirred in the bed. The professor and the nurse watched as she slowly came around. Poppy explained to her that she had been found by Professor Green and had been taken to the hospital wing. Theresa started to cry, the combination of the pain, fatigue and embarrassment being too much for her. Poppy gently asked Theresa to explain how severe her condition was and was shocked to discover that Theresa often experienced episodes. She had been able to explain her absences from class by relying on the fact that she suffered from frequent and acute headaches, which was true, for which she was often seeing Poppy for headache potions. As there were so many corridors and corners in the castle to hide in, no one would find her when she disappeared, and with her observable headache complaint, no one would think to question her absences.

Harry told Theresa to rest a little more and he pulled Poppy aside.  "Do you know that I'm a pharmacologist, Poppy?"

"Yes, I was told."

"I've been given permission by the fraternity to conduct research and experiments, so I've got some ingredients in my room that I can mix together that she can take for now." That was a bald-faced lie, but he didn't want Poppy to be alarmed at the fact that he had muggle chemicals and medications in his room. _It's half true.  I _am _doing research… "_I'm not really supposed to mix medication for people without permission, strictly speaking,  but if you don't tell my fraternity, I won't. I'll just have to quickly look up a few of my books. Muggle medication and dosages are usually specific to the individual person, but I can make a general preventative medication that should help until she can see a muggle doctor who can advise her more specifically. I'll be back in about an hour," rushed Harry as he quickly stood and left the room. The only reason Harry had any ingredients in his rooms was because on each of his visits to his Pharmacy he stole a certain amount of ingredients to bring back to Hogwarts with him. As it was strictly for research, albeit _private _research, and as it was _his _pharmacy, he didn't feel too guilty. 

Harry returned with a tiny container with about a week's worth of medication for Theresa. Normally, it would take more than an hour to prepare the ingredients and mix the medication, but he had no aversions to using his magic to accelerate the process. He gave the medicine to the young student who thanked him, through her embarrassment. Harry took a seat and spent some time explaining the medication to her. At the end of it all, she was so excited about the prospect of being able to take some sort of preventative for her illness that she forgot that he had exposed her carefully guarded secret, and the only thing she could say was,

"I'll bet it tastes just as bad as Madam Pomfrey's potions do." 

Harry laughed. "I don't know. I've taken my share of potions and I have to say, they're just about on par level with the muggle medicines."

"Why do you take muggle medicines when you can take potions?" she asked Harry, curiously. Madam Pomfrey was also quite interested in the answer.

"I think that potions work better for some things but I think that medicines work better for others. In your case, they work better for you." 

She smiled and took the medication which she would be taking for the rest of her life. Harry chatted to her about idle things, in an attempt to ease her discomfort. She was still embarrassed that her professor had found her. 

"I'll let you rest. I'll be busy for a few days helping Albus get things ready for Christmas, but I'll talk to you at some stage soon about getting a proper prescription for the medicines, o.k. ?"

"Yes, sir. Um sir?" she eeked out as Harry was getting out of his seat. "Sir, could I ask a question?"

"Of course," answered Harry, sitting back down again.

"I don't know if now is the best time to ask, but since you're here anyway, um, I'm finding Defence Against The Dark Arts difficult. Really difficult. I've had a few absences, as you know, and I've fallen behind and I just don't think I can catch up and get the hang of it. I mean, I'm still having trouble with the shield spell you taught us and that was in week two! I was wondering whether you would mind - if you have the time, because I know you're busy and all- "

"I'm sure I can arrange some extra classes for you. If you're really keen to learn then I have no problem with it."

"Can we start during this school break?" she asked eagerly.

Harry pretended to think about this. "If you want." 

"O.k. And sir, thank you again sir," thanked the young girl.

"You're welcome Miss Chan. Get some rest," said Harry gently before he left the wing.

"Are you leaving Jason?" asked Poppy.

"Yes. Theresa will need to sleep so I thought it best."

"Thank you again Jason. You don't know what it will mean to her. 

"The medication is only a _general _medication for epilepsy, Poppy," Harry reminded the school nurse gently.

"Oh, but it will still be such an improvement for her. Wouldn't it be good if the medication were as effective as the potions, though?"

"Yes, it would," said Harry as he bid the nurse a good night. _Actually it would be _very _good. I wonder what makes the potion so completely effective? And I wonder if the medicine could be altered to match the potion..._ Harry's train of thought occupied him for the rest of the night. He jotted some ideas down in a notebook in his study so he could start researching and investigating the matter as soon as he could. 

*****

  
Severus and Minerva were patrolling the mall by themselves, two days before Christmas, as Ron and Hermione were away from Hogwarts.

"Do you really think it wise to rely implicitly on the information that Professor Green gave to us, Minerva?"

"He certainly seems to bother you, doesn't he?" Minerva observed.

"I am only suggesting that since he has made every effort to be secretive, that we should be careful."

"Severus, we all have reasons to be secretive. I can remember a time, when your entire way of life was one secret after another."  Professor Snape could think of no way to respond to that, so he walked in silence, hand close to his wand, eyes constantly sweeping the mall for signs of unrest. They roamed the mall for hours, glad but also frustrated that there had been no incidents during their shift. As they approached the end of their shift, a small group of men and women suddenly surrounded an elderly couple in the middle of the mall. One of the men grabbed the lady. He slapped her to the ground and snatched her hand bag, throwing it to one of the others in his group.  The elderly lady was trying to get up, but couldn't, and the young man kicked her in the ribs to keep her down on the ground. Several audible crack resonated around the small area. She cried out and tried to shield her injured side with her hands. One of the young women stepped forward and she hit her in the side of the head with the long wooden stick she was carrying. The elderly lady passed out. 

The elderly gentleman was being restrained and was forced to helplessly watch his wife being beaten. Once she had passed out, the young woman who had knocked his wife out turned to him and swiftly hit him in the chest with the butt of her stick, winding him. He was unable to do anything but double over in pain and groan because his arms were still being restrained. 

"Please, somebody help me." He cried. But nobody helped him. Nobody dared. The crowd around them were being held at bay by the other people in the group of assailants who were swinging their weapons threateningly, daring someone to come and help the couple. A few of the braver onlookers had tried to help, but they were attacked by some of the assailants, which deterred anyone else from trying the same thing.

One of the young men had aimed several powerful punches at the elderly gentleman's torso, face and head the elderly man could do nothing but stand weakly. His head lolled from side to side as he struggled to stay conscious, but he finally lost consciousness when the young man landed a brutal uppercut to his chin. He flew back into the people who were holding his arms, sending them all crashing to the ground. The young assailants picked themselves back up and dusted themselves off, but the elderly man stayed down on the ground. 

The professors had not arrived in time to help the elderly couple, but they would not allow the assailants to attack anyone else. Since they could not use muggle methods to resolve the situation, they resorted to using their magic. Severus stood to one side of the crowd that had formed and surreptitiously stunned each and everyone of the attackers. This was no mean feat, as the crowd was quite thick with people and he had to make sure that he didn't accidentally hit the wrong person. 

Minerva moved away from the crowd of people, who were now gasping and wondering why the assailants had just fainted for no apparent reason, and began to check the nearby alleyways. Her search was not in vain. She found three men, all holding wands gathered together in one of the alleyways. When they noticed that she was approaching them, one of them turned to the other two and said, in a near panic, "Shit! It's one of the professors. What's her name… McGonagall.".  There were a few muttered oaths and the group apparated away. 

Professor McGonagall didn't know what to think. She returned to find Professor Snape now standing over some of the attackers, pretending to be checking their vital signs and making sure they were o.k. In reality, he was subtly reviving them and erasing their memories to prevent them from revealing the existence of the wizarding world to the muggle world. He was also casting simple pain relieving spells and simple healing spells to heal the worst of the elderly couple's injuries. Minerva helped him to complete the task, her lips pursed into a stern line in an attempt to control her anger at the brutality of the event, before the police arrived, and when they were done, they quickly returned to Hogwarts to give their report to Albus.

*****

"This means that Professor Green was right," observed Minerva. 

"This certainly makes things a little more interesting, doesn't it?" Albus asked mildly. "All we can do is continue to watch the target areas. I will make inquiries of my own into this matter." He paused and said, almost to himself, "It would be helpful to be able to question one of these wizards, wouldn't it?" 

"We would need to get _close _enough to them to question them, Albus, and they'll probably just apparate as soon as they see anyone approaching. And one of them recognised me as a Hogwarts Professor. They'll be on the look out for us now," Minerva reasoned. 

The trio sat in silence. The two professors sipped their tea as they continued to think about the situation they faced, and the Headmaster stroked his beard and tried to make sense of it all. 


	7. chapter 7

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Disclaimer: I don't own the whole concept of Harry Potter, or any of the characters. They belong to the talented Ms. Rowling. Only the plot is my own. 

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and a big thank you to my beta, your efforts are greatly appreciated. J

CHAPTER 7

Christmas Day dawned bright and clear. Harry was, by habit, an early riser and this morning he had woken in time to enjoy watching the sunrise. He loved the sense of peace and calm that watching the morning's rays, pushing back the dark night sky and covering the frosted landscape, gave him. 

This would be Harry's first Christmas without Greg in many years. He smiled as he sat cross-legged on his bed, cradling his mug of coffee in his hands and losing himself in his own private remembrances. Harry was strong, and was now usually able to look upon his memories of his life with his lover as a source of comfort and pleasure, and not as a source of pain and grief. Greg's memory didn't deserve to be treated like that. 

Harry sat in quiet reverie for so long that if his stomach hadn't growled loudly, he wouldn't have realised that it was time for breakfast. With a sigh, he sent his coffee mug back to the kitchen with a small gesture of his hand and some softly spoken words and leaned over to pick up the picture of Greg and himself, which resided permanently on the left side bedside chest of drawers. With a small smile, he whispered "Merry Christmas, Greg" before putting the picture back and moving toward his wardrobe to start getting dressed for breakfast. 

They had always worn loud and cheesy Christmas clothing on this day every year. He saw no reason to abandon the tradition so he thought he'd dress up a little today. He rummaged in his wardrobe until he found the shirt that Greg had given him for Christmas last year. It was bright red with a picture of two reindeer dancing the tango, one with a rose between its teeth. Santa was standing off to the side playing a violin. The whole shirt was set off by the fact that both of the reindeers' noses and all of Santa's buttons flashed on and off when a tiny button inside the collar line was pressed. It was an absolutely ridiculous shirt, so it would do very nicely for today. _Albus__ will appreciate it, if no else does,_ Harry thought wryly.

*****

The kneeling figure dared not lift his gaze from the floor as he delivered the news to his Lord and Master. His Master would not be pleased.

"My Lord, we were seen."

There was a brief silence before his Master's voice replied in deceptively soft and even tones, "How? I stressed the need for concealment and discretion, did I _not_?" 

The kneeling wizard tensed. His Master rarely received bad news so calmly, and he braced himself to feel the consequences of displeasing his Lord. "You did, my Lord. But a woman simply came upon us as she walked by... she..." he faltered for a moment, dreading presenting his master with the next bit of information. "I believe she was a Hogwarts professor."

"How could you have allowed a _Hogwarts__ professor _to come upon you?!" His Master bellowed, stirring angrily behind his screen. The kneeling figure on the ground winced as the room reverberated in response to his Master's anger and the robed figure who stood by his side raised his wand at his master's silent command: 

"Crucio!" The bearer of the bad news was thrown onto his back and lay screaming as his body spasmed in pain. Once the pain subsided, the wizard shakily scrambled back into a kneeling position before the screen and bowed his head in appropriate subservience.

The form behind the screen was shaking in anger and the room continued to reverberate and tremble in response to its master's moods. After a moment the figure calmed its movements somewhat and observed to the robed witches and wizard before him, "The professor will surely have alerted that meddling old fool of a Headmaster. No doubt they will now be looking for us. But we have come too far to disrupt our activities. Continue as planned. If it happens again, I want to know _immediately_." 

"Yes, my Lord," replied the kneeling figure, relieved that his meeting with his Lord had gone so well. 

*****

Ron and Hermione were absent from the staff table when Harry arrived. He had bought a small gift for each of them – a book on quidditch for Ron and a book on Defensive Magic for Hermione – during his last trip to Diagon Alley, and had hoped to be able to give them to them first thing in the morning. Noticing their absence, he shrank the books and put them in one of his pockets to give to them when he caught up with the pair later. As he looked around the hall and along the staff table, he noticed Albus staring at him. Assuming that he was staring at his shirt, he stood and allowed him a good look at it. 

"My apologies for flashing you Headmaster!" Harry called out loudly, with a cheeky grin at his lame joke.

"Not at all, Professor Green, I was simply admiring your wardrobe. I only wish mine were as outstanding as yours." Albus was chuckling by now. He rose and twirled to give Harry a good look at his own shirt which sported a picture of a picket line of several angry female reindeer who carried signs reading "We'll work for more bucks!".  The back of the shirt had a picture of Santa getting stuck while trying to fit down a chimney, under a sign which read "Santa won't be needing his cookies, so I'll eat them instead."

Harry laughed at this. He had missed Albus' rather... quirky sense of humour. "Your own shirt is quite impressive, Headmaster."

The festive pair had attracted the attention of the rest of the hall by now and several people were laughing along with them. Professor Snape rolled his eyes, a look of sheer repugnance on his face at the idiotic display before him. Minerva announced loudly that she would be buying a comical shirt to wear next year and that hers would outdo both of theirs, and she insisted that Harry "flash" her one more time. Once the frivolity of the moment had ended, he sat back down to his breakfast, idly reminiscing to himself about the numerous Christmas holidays he had spent at Hogwarts as a boy. The Dursleys had never wanted him to return to them for the holidays and Harry had never wished to do so. Albus had always made sure that Hogwarts was a place of good cheer for those who stayed for the holiday, and he could see that this had not changed in so many years. Crackers and Christmas treats filled both tables. 

Harry was lost in his own private reflections and didn't notice that Theresa Chan was waving her arms trying to get his attention. 

"Jason, I think young Miss Chan would like a word with you." Minerva leaned over and whispered to him, abruptly snapping him out of his daze.

"Oh, thank you Minerva."

Minerva only raised an eyebrow at Harry. Students were not permitted to approach the staff table, so he picked up the rest of his breakfast and moved over to sit with her at the student table.  He turned the flashy lights on his shirt off before he reached her because he wasn't sure whether it would trigger one of her episodes, and he didn't want to take any chances.

Theresa sat on her own at the end of the student table and Harry took a seat opposite her. Normally, professors wouldn't sit with students this way, but it wasn't unusual for Harry to be seen sitting with some of his students at their tables, explaining something from one of his lessons, or even just chatting about general things, like the outcome of an inter-house quidditch match, or the next Hogsmeade trip. 

"I'm sorry Professor, I didn't mean to interrupt your breakfast. I was just going to sort of indicate to you that before you left after breakfast that I wanted to talk to you. Um, now that I think about it, I don't know how I was going to do that, maybe wave my arms around a bit and point outside… I thought about holding up a note, but that would be a _big _note, I guess… But you were already coming over here and then it was too late…" Theresa apologised, somewhat embarrassed and stared down at the table, mentally kicking herself for rambling at her professor.

Harry smiled. "It's o.k. Miss Chan. You weren't interrupting anything, aside from my "flashing" various members of staff with my shirt." 

"I like your shirt, Professor," The young student said with a small smile. 

"Thank you. I'm rather fond of it myself."

Theresa was still recovering from her embarrassment at her incoherent ramblings, and now that she had her professor's attention focussed solely on her, she completely forgot what she wanted to say.  Harry decided to fill in the gaps in the conversation while waiting for her to tell him what she wanted to speak to him about. 

"So, you're not spending Christmas at home?" he inquired.

Theresa's gaze shifted across the table. "Um, no. My parents died a couple of years ago and I live with my older brother, but his girlfriend doesn't like me very much, so I decided to stay here for the holiday," she said quietly.

Harry could have kicked himself. He of all people knew that a student's decision to spend Christmas at Hogwarts was not usually a happy one. He should have realised that it might be a sensitive topic of conversation. _Way to go, Potter. Remove both feet from your mouth before you speak again! _

"I'm sorry to hear... "

"It's o.k, Professor. I don't mind. Actually, that's sort of the reason I wanted to talk to you. I was wondering – and I know it's a lot to ask because you probably have plans for the day, I mean, who doesn't – but if you had some free time, would you mind giving me a lesson in Defence Against the Dark Arts?" 

"Oh, well– "

"You _did _say that you'd help me to catch up, and we haven't actually had a lesson yet. Today would be as good a day as any to start, right?"

Harry had to admit that he _didn't _have any real plans for the day. He had turned down Tony's invitation to spend the day with his family and was planning to spend the day continuing his research and experimentation on how to develop a medication that Theresa could take for her condition. 

"I have no plans for the day, but surely you don't want to spend Christmas Day doing school work, do you?"

"Sir, Christmas Day is like any other day to me, and I really would like to start catching up."

She looked absolutely genuine, so Harry agreed. "Of course. How about we finish breakfast and then head over to my class room and begin from there?" he suggested.

"Sure." Theresa brightened and returned to her breakfast while Harry sipped his orange juice and looked at Theresa for a moment before politely asking;

"Can I talk to you about your medicine?" 

"Of course, Professor."

"Do you find that it's working?"

"Yes. I haven't had an episode since I started taking it. Mind you, it's only been a few days so I guess I can't really know for sure if it's working properly or not."

"Well, bear in mind that it's only a general medication. To get the best results, you really need to see a muggle doctor so that he can prescribe the specific medicine and dosage that will be right for you. If you've never been to a muggle doctor before, you should go with someone from the staff.  I'll ask the Headmaster for permission to make your medicine for you. Strictly speaking, I'm not actually supposed to do it since I'm not working in my capacity as a pharmacist, but if the Headmaster will allow it, it will save you having to go into the muggle pharmacies and having to buy the medication yourself. I've got certain ingredients in my room that I use for my research that I can use to make your medicine, but you'll need to pick the medicine up from a pharmacy at first because they'll have the medicine pre-packaged and on hand, whereas I'll need a little while to look up the proper directions and ingredients and put it all together."

Harry took a small bottle of pills out of his pocket and put it on the table between himself and Theresa. "Shortly after you were taken to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey and I spoke to the Headmaster. I told him about the medication I gave to you and he's happy to let you continue taking it for the time being. This should be enough for about a month. So, just take them once a day and make sure you keep them safe."

"Of course, Professor. And thank you so much." 

"There are a few things you'll need to know though…" Harry and Theresa continued to talk while they continued their breakfast.

*****

"Sorry we're late Headmaster, we only just got back," said Hermione, slightly out of breath as they entered the Great Hall via the side staff-only entrance.

"Not at all, how is your brother?" inquired Albus.

"Fine. He'll be sore for a few days. He took a pretty nasty burn," answered Ron, removing his scarf and taking his seat. He noticed the empty seat by Hermione. "Incidentally, where's Jason?"

"He's sitting with one of the students. A young Miss Chan," answered Minerva, pointing to the professor and the student at the far end of the student table.

"It's unseemly. Professors should not dine with their students," commented Professor Snape sharply. "None of the rest of us do it. The distinction of rank should be preserved."

"Severus, Professor Green often helps his students at their tables. I can see nothing harmful, or unseemly, about the arrangement," observed Albus gently.

"I _also _assist my students, Albus, but I don't do it at the dining table." Snape sniffed.

"To each his own, Severus," rebuked the Headmaster.

By chance, Harry chose this moment to give the bottle of medication to Theresa. Professor Snape, having no experience with muggle medication nor trusting professor Green, became outraged at what he was witnessing.

"Headmaster, he goes too far. He is giving that student drugs! That sort of thing should not be tolerated. Who knows what sort of substance he's offering that girl," he spluttered.

"Severus, calm down. I believe Poppy can explain the situation," offered Albus.

Poppy explained the circumstances surrounding the student's last episode and how Harry had explained how muggle medication could provide relief for her illness where the potions could not. The staff were shocked that they had been so artfully deceived and were filled with concern for their student. Most of them supported Harry's offer to provide her medication for her. 

"How kind of him," approved Hermione. "Of course he'd offer to help. It's the right thing to do."

"Headmaster, none of us have any experience in the area of muggle medications. Can we be sure that he is providing the student with a preventative?" Professor Snape asked cautiously, seeming to struggle over how to phrase the question.

"Professor, I was there when she took the first dose of medicine and it had no adverse effect on her whatsoever. I believe that Professor Green was, and still is, genuine in his offer of help," defended Poppy. 

"Poppy, he has given her a new bottle. Perhaps this bottle might not contain the same medication as she took under your supervision," the Potions Master countered. 

"Severus, the professor has constantly demonstrated that he has a genuine interest in his students' well being, as do we all. And as such, I do not believe that he would put any one of them in danger. I am very grateful to him for his offer of assistance and I will be happy to support any effort of bringing relief to her." The Headmaster's word brooked no argument. He turned to Poppy and inquired,  "Did you say that she needed to consult with a muggle doctor?"

"Yes, Albus."

"I shall make the arrangements myself, I know of some excellent doctors. Now if you will excuse me." He left the hall with a purposeful stride, casting a compassionate eye toward the young girl and the professor, who were, by this time, ready to leave the hall themselves to begin their lesson.

From his position at the staff table, Professor Snape watched Harry and Theresa leave, and suddenly decided to follow them. To ensure that he didn't look suspicious, he let them have a small head start and then he followed them, curious as to why a professor and a student would be breakfasting and leaving a hall together on Christmas Day.

*****

"My Lord, we were discovered again."

"How can this be?! I specifically instructed you to hide yourselves!" their master yelled, causing the room to shake and dust to fall from the roof. The air suddenly became decidedly chilly and the figures kneeling before their Lord trembled in anticipation of their master's wrath.

"M-my Lord, it was not our fault. It seemed as though he was searching for us."

A tall figure, standing to the left of his master, raised his wand and pointed it at the kneeling figure before them. "Crucio!" Screams filled the air and four men collapsed to the ground, shaking and exhausted.

"Was it a Hogwarts Professor?"

"Yes, my Lord, there were a group of them."

"All is not lost. Capture one of them. Find out what they know, and how they found out about us."

"How will we capture one, my Lord if they are in groups." 

"You are a disgrace," their master hissed in soft chilly tones, "If you cannot single out one witch or wizard for capture, you have no business being here!" The shapeless form nodded to the robed figure standing beside him, who automatically pointed his wand at the cowering figures before them.  

"Crucio!"

"It will be done, my Lord." Four soft and pain laden voices responded.

"As for our more immediate plan..."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I have changed my mind. I want you to find a way to have it sent to Hogwarts."

*****

Harry had been throwing spells at Theresa for the last hour while she tried to defend herself against them. So far, she hadn't deflected a single one and was becoming more and more frustrated.  Harry was only casting mild warming charms, so his student wouldn't be hurt if she failed to defend herself.

"O.k. I think I know where you're going wrong. The 'protego' is a shielding spell. It creates a general shield in front of your body. You seem to be trying to use your wand like a bat to try and deflect the spell. It won't work that way. Try to visualise a shield, and then concentrate that intent through your wand-"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Excuse me, can you tell me where I can find the Headmaster? We were told by a really short fellow that he was down here." Two men appeared in the doorway of the classroom levitating a large painting between them.

"He was in the Great Hall when I last saw him. The Deputy Headmistress will know where he is. Her office is the next floor up, third door on the right. Knock on the door, she'll know you're there."

"Thank you. Merry Christmas to you both."

"Merry Christmas." Harry bid them farewell. He turned back to his student.

"Let's have another goes," suggested Harry, and he threw another charm in Theresa's direction.

"Protego!" she cried, actually managing to deflect that one. "I did it!" she squealed.

_Finally_, thought Professor Snape, who had been watching from the hallway the entire time, ducking out of sight when the two men carrying the painting had appeared. He had followed the professor and the student and had stayed to watch them to reassure himself that nothing untoward and unprofessional would occur between the two of them. After all, one did not expect a professor and a student to be doing school work on Christmas Day, so their leaving the hall together had aroused his suspicion. In fact, if he had to be honest with himself, he would have to admit that his suspicion of Professor Green in general had been the motivating factor behind following him in the first place. 

But he would have to admit that he felt reassured by this time that the lesson between Harry and Theresa was completely above board. He continued to watch them now, long after the need was over, because of his professional curiosity. He had applied for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year and his application had, once again, been rejected.  He had felt cheated when the position was given to the idiot that had previously occupied the professorship; who, he privately suspected, couldn't even tell the difference between Crucio and Imperio if his life depended on it. He had simply assumed that Albus would give the position to the first moron who applied before he would give it to him, and wanted to know if this was the case here. His professional integrity and dignity would not suffer such a severe a blow this year if Professor Green  actually deserved the position. So he waited, and watched. 

"Excellent," Harry encouraged his student. "Again." They repeated the same exercise again and again and at one point, Theresa dropped her wand after executing her spell. _Oh my God, I think I might be rubbing off on her. I thought _I _was the only one who did that, _Harry thought with a grimace. As she bent forward to retrieve it, Harry was reminded of his fight with the four wizards in the alley in muggle London.

"Don't pick it up. If you drop your wand in front of your opponent, the easiest way to get yourself injured, or killed is to bend down to pick it up. For a start, you've taken your eyes off your opponent. Secondly, you've put yourself at a convenient height for your opponent to kick you in the head."

"What should I do? I can't just leave it down there."

"No, you can't. Though sometimes, you might not have a choice. The easiest way to get your wand back is to pick up something around you, anything, the lid of a bin, a stick, your shoe, and throw it at your opponent. They'll need to dodge it, or deflect it, or block it and this might give you time to pick up your wand. But if you do have an opening to pick your wand up, don't ever take your eyes off your opponent. Ever. You won't be able to defend yourself if you can't see what they're doing." 

"What if I don't have anything around me that I can throw? Or what if it doesn't work?"

"Well, the best thing you can do then is to dodge the next curse or attack that comes at you, and as you're doing this, pick up your wand."

Theresa looked confused, so Harry tried to explain himself.  "For instance, if you're ducking an attack, you can drop low enough to the ground to pick up your wand, or drop to the ground and roll over to your wand and retrieve it that way. You're combining two movements into one, so you've cut down the time it would normally take to execute them. Your opponent probably won't have recovered from throwing his last attack to react quickly enough to prevent you from recovering your wand."

_Hmm...__ perhaps he _can _teach the subject after all,_ granted Professor Snape, not without some chagrin, as he listened very intently from his position in the hallway. This made him feel a little better. His professional dignity remained somewhat in tact this year. But he had still been refused the position, and nothing could salvage him from the indignity of that. He continued to watch while Harry patiently instructed his student.

They practiced until about lunch time, when Harry called the lesson over. He was pleased with Theresa's progress. She had learned to deflect, shield and even dodge. The strength of her shield had also improved throughout the lesson. She wasn't a strong student, but she tried hard, which is all anyone could ask for. 

"Professor," Theresa began carefully, while she was helping Harry to return the room to its normal state. They had moved all of the desks and chairs to the sides of the room so they could have a reasonable space to work in. "I've got this subject that I'm really behind in. I'm actually in danger of failing. Miserably. I wanted to ask you whether you thought that the professor in that subject would consider giving me extra help outside of class hours. If you don't think he would, I won't ask."

Harry stopped what he was doing to look at his student. "What subject are you failing?"

There was a short pause before Theresa said in a subdued voice, "Potions."

This caught Professor Snape's attention. He was aware that he wasn't a very popular teacher, but if a student had a problem in _his _subject, they should come to _him _about it. He would be very annoyed if Professor Green offered to tutor her in _his _subject. 

Harry almost burst out laughing. He could perfectly understand why she wouldn't want to ask Professor Snape for extra help. But Harry knew from his own days at Hogwarts that the Potions Master would provide extra help to anyone if they _did ask_. Not many people ever did though. He wasn't universally thought of as… approachable. He carried on with what he was doing and simply asked, "Why _wouldn't _he help you?" 

"Well, Snape doesn't seem very nice. He might yell at me for failing in the first place, or yell at me for even asking," Theresa replied nervously.

"_Professor _Snape, Miss Chan." Harry corrected before adding,  "He'll help you. Just ask him." Harry might not like the Potions Master, but before the students and the other staff, he would give him the respect due to a Hogwarts professor. He would not be called to fault for that.

"But…"

"Look, just pluck up your courage and ask him. I promise he won't yell at you." His student still looked dubious.

"Are you sure? He doesn't seem very… well… _nice_." 

Harry had to admit that she made a very good point, but if she really needed the extra help, he had to convince her to ask him. "Maybe he just has so many good qualities that there wasn't room for anymore, and 'nice' had to be left out." Harry suggested good naturedly. _Yeah, right. Pull the other one Potter!!_ He snorted to himself. 

"Other good qualities?" Theresa repeated with raised eyebrows. 

"Well, he's very intelligent. I'd say that was a good quality, wouldn't you?"

"Well, yes, but it's obvious that he's not very nice to you, sir, so I don't see why you're being so generous. I mean, we all see him glaring at you all the time and once, in class, someone told Professor Snape something of what you said in one of your lessons on the 

sorts of potions that were developed during the war. He just sort of ground his teeth and said "Well, he _must_ be right then" in this really sarcastic tone of voice."

Harry was laughing by now. "I have to admit that I _do _seem to have a talent for being able to get on the wrong side of Professor Snape. But, since he manages to be able to get on the wrong side of me, I think it would be _rude _not to return the favour, wouldn't you agree? Listen, whether or not I'm his favourite person should have nothing to do with your decision to ask him for help."

"What if he says 'no'?"

"I'll speak to him if that happens, but it won't, so go and ask him. As soon as you can. Everyone's in a good mood at Christmas, try asking him after lunch."

"O.k." she replied nervously, before adding in a much brighter tone,  "Thank you for the lesson today, Professor. Can we have another lesson tomorrow?"

"Sure. Same time, same place Miss Chan. Enjoy your day."

With that, his student turned to leave. She didn't see Professor Snape on her way out because he had concealed himself in the shadows of the hallway.

Harry left the room shortly after his student. He stood in the doorway and thought about her question. He shook his head and smiled "Boy, she must be really desperate if she wants extra lessons with _him_," he muttered to himself, as he walked towards his rooms, unaware that the subject of his discussion was standing close enough to be able to hear him. 

Professor Snape made his way to the Great Hall. _He managed to keep the peace without actually defending me. Clever, very clever,_ thought Snape as he walked away.

*****

"I have done it, my Lord." The robed and kneeling figure was pleased to report from his position at the back of the damp and darkened room.

"Excellent. I want to know what vehicle you used," his Master said in emotionless flat tones.

"My Lord, I was given a Hogwarts painting to restore. I have used that as the vehicle. Do you have a target in mind or will anyone do?" the robed figure asked, anxious to please his Lord.

A thoughtful silence followed the question. "Yes." The shapeless form silently communicated with the robed wizard standing by his side who simply nodded his head and quietly recited a simple incantation, waving his wand in the direction of the wizard kneeling before them. A hazy image was created in the room.

"This is the target," his Master hissed.

"It will be my pleasure, my Lord. When do you want it to happen, my Lord?"

"Christmas Day will do very nicely, I think. After all, I should have something to celebrate at Christmas too, don't you think?" the master replied in a wickedly cheerful tone.

"Of course, my Lord. When? 

The undefined form paused momentarily in contemplation. "In the evening. Arrange for it to proceed after dinner. They should be well fed and thoroughly relaxed by then."

"It will be done, my Lord."

"Do not fail me. I want this to happen _very much_," his Master warned.

The robed and kneeling figure paled at the implications of his instructions. "Of course, my Lord," he mumbled as he bowed and retreated from the room.

*****

By chance, Ron and Hermione met up with Harry on his way back to his quarters.   

"Jason, we were just going to see if you were in your rooms," said Ron when he caught up with him.

"Oh? What's up? When did you both get back? I looked for you this morning but I thought you might have just spent the day with Ron's brother and his family," Harry greeted cheerfully. 

"We got back in time to have some breakfast in the Great Hall, and my brother will just spend the day with his family. The rest of my family is overseas so we called in to see Hermione's mum and dad earlier this morning. My sister and her husband will be coming up this evening for a visit though. They used to be students here, so they'll join us in the Great Hall so that they can talk to Albus and the other staff," responded Ron. 

"We just wanted to ask you if you would join us in our rooms for lunch," Hermione offered.  Sometime in the past week, Harry had mentioned to Hermione that he had no real plans for Christmas and that he was hoping to be able to spend a quiet day catching up with his reading and his research. Hermione had other plans for Jason. She knew that he had lost someone very special to him and she didn't want him to be alone for Christmas. Ron felt the same way, and it was his idea to invite Harry to join them for lunch instead of having lunch in the Great Hall. 

The invitation came as a pleasant surprise for Harry. He had simply assumed that his friends would be spending the day with their families, and if that wasn't the case, that he might catch up with them in the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione weren't such good friends with Jason that he would have expected an invitation to have a private Christmas lunch. He looked closely at both of them. Ron looked keen on the offer and Hermione's eyes were so full of feeling and gentle concern that he thought he had a pretty good idea of what motivated them to make the offer. He was reminded sharply of his days as a student, when Ron and Hermione would arrange to spend the Christmas holidays with him wherever possible so that he wouldn't be alone at that special time of the year. It brought home to Harry how much he'd missed their steadfast friendship and support. 

"That sounds really nice. Thank you."

"We're so glad you'll join us," smiled Hermione. 

"We'll just need to duck into the kitchens on the way to pick up the food. We asked the house elves if they wouldn't mind packing some lunch in a basket for us," explained Ron, as he led the way to the kitchens. Jason could see that the house elves seemed very fond of Ron and Hermione, and he was very pleased to see that Dobby still worked here, though he couldn't see Winky anywhere. _Looks like Hermione has finally stopped trying to set all the Hogwarts house elves free. I wonder if she's given up on the S.P.E.W thing altogether. That might be too much to hope for though,_ Harry thought, with a fond smile as he remembered the cause that had become Hermione's obsession during her fourth and fifth years at school.  

As they walked out of the kitchen and headed toward the couple's rooms, Hermione closed her eyes and gave a sad sigh. Without even looking at her, Ron spoke.

"No, Hermione."

"They work so hard, if they would only accept a wage," Hermione said sadly.

Ron shook his head. He turned to Harry to explain. "It doesn't matter how often people – and even house elves – say otherwise, she honestly thinks that wizards hold their house elves in some sort of bonded slavery, and she keeps trying to free them." 

"They're not _all _happy with their lot though, are they Ron? Remember Dobby? He was treated appallingly until he was set free," Hermione responded hotly.

Experience had taught Ron that he would never be victorious in this argument. He and Hermione had already had this discussion enough times for him to know how it would end. Nevertheless, he remained foolishly optimistic that Hermione would one day give in a little on this topic. 

"Not _all _of them want to be free."

"Then I'll just have to find the ones that do," Hermione stated in a tone that brooked no arguments.

"Jason?" pleaded Ron. "Some help?" 

Ron and Hermione stopped walking and looked expectantly at him. Harry had never wanted to be part of these heated discussions between his two best friends during their days as students, and he wasn't about to start now.

"Oh… well... I really – Oh Albus, hello!" called Harry a little _too_ enthusiastically, as he caught sight of the Headmaster and tried to steer the conversation to another topic.

Albus paused in the middle of what he was doing to greet his professors. "Ron, Hermione, Jason, hello. Er, correct me if I am mistaken, but doesn't the Great Hall lie in the other direction?" 

"We were planning to have lunch in our rooms, Albus, but we'll still be joining you in the Hall for dinner. Ginny and Draco will be joining us as well," explained Hermione.

"Yes, I'm looking forward to it."

"Er, Albus, can we help you with that?" asked Ron.

Albus looked as though he were in the middle of redecorating one of the large walls of the castle. A large painting was leaning against the wall, and the Headmaster appeared to be in the process of shifting all of the other paintings to make room for it on the wall.

"No, no, but I thank you for the thought. It shouldn't take very long to do this." He continued to work while he was speaking to his Professors. 

 "Wouldn't it be easier to put it on another wall where there's actually some space for it, Albus?" Harry suggested politely, as he watched the Headmaster's efforts.

"Yes, it would, but this painting actually belongs on this wall. I had it sent away recently to be restored, and it just came back this morning. When I took it _off _the wall it was necessary to move the other paintings to cover the bare spot, but now that I have it back, I'll need to rearrange the paintings so it can go back to its proper place. I don't really have too much more to do, actually." 

While Albus was speaking to Jason, Hermione was looking at the painting. It depicted a very arrogant looking Salazar Slytherin, standing upright with his hands in his robe pockets, and a scared looking house elf half stood, half bent in a bow by his side, meekly handing him a hat.

"I've never actually noticed this painting before. I hope you don't mind me saying this, but the painting certainly is…well…it's definitely…er…_imposing_." She finally managed, for lack of a better word. It was a Hogwarts painting, so she couldn't very well come right out and say that she thought it was the most appalling painting she'd ever seen.  "And it certainly sends the wrong message to students about the way they should treat house elves!" she commented more strongly. 

Ron groaned. "Oh, not the bloody house elves again!"

"Have you even _looked_ at the painting, Ron?"

Ron and Harry both turned their attention to the painting. "Oh, good point," Ron conceded. "The fellow looks awfully proud, doesn't he?"

"Salazar Slytherin was a very proud man." Albus informed them. 

"_That's _Salazar Slytherin?" asked Ron, incredulously. "Well, that explains the sour look, doesn't it?" Ron observed.

"Yes," he calmly answered Ron.

"Honestly Ron, if you'd every read _Hogwarts__: A History_, you would have known that." Hermione chastised her husband in her 'teacher's voice', tossing her head to emphasise her point. 

In actuality, Harry had also recognised the man in the painting, but it wasn't from reading a book as pleasant as _Hogwarts__: A History. _He had seen pictures of him during the lessons he received in the dark arts during his years of isolated training. He had been required to read a number of illegal books in an effort to understand his lessons. 

"You must be the only person alive who's ever read that book," Ron muttered.

"Actually, I've also read it. In fact, I have my own copy of it," Albus replied, trying to suppress a smile before turning to Hermione and adding "and I quite agree with your assessment of the painting. Which is why, you'll notice, it resides in the most inconspicuous corner of this wall."

"If you don't approve of the painting, why put it up at all, Albus?" asked Hermione, puzzled as to why this painting deserved such attention.

"Phineas Nigellus commissioned a very well known artist to have this painting done for him, and he donated the work to the school during his time as headmaster here. He hung it in the very centre of this wall, I believe," he gestured, turning back to the wall, "and the headmaster who took over from him moved it along a bit until it ended up in this corner here, which is where it has resided since, and which is where I intend to return it." As if on cue, the Headmaster levitated the painting to its place on the wall and cast a sticking charm to keep it there. He turned back to face Hermione. "So you see, it wouldn't be right to simply dispose of the painting. For one thing, it would be a mark of disrespect toward one of our former Headmasters. For another, Salazar Slytherin _was_ a founding wizard of the school, so it would be dreadfully disrespectful to him as well." Albus looked back at the painting. "He doesn't always reside here though," he said as he raised his wand again. "He sometimes visits his other paintings, in other places and institutions."

Albus wove a rejuvenation spell to "wake" the painting up. It had been placed under a standard non-animation spell when it was taken down so that the occupants of the painting would not move while the restoration was being carried out. Now that the painting was fully restored, Salazar and his house elf were free to move again.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Salazar said coldly, but politely.

"You're looking much better," commented Albus. 

"I _feel _much better."

"By your leave." Albus excused himself politely from the painting. 

"Come on Jason," called Ron as the rest of the small group had started to move away. Harry was examining the painting with a frown. 

"There's something about this painting… I don't like it. It just…gives me a chill," he muttered as Hermione came to take his arm. 

"You and me both, Jason. But Albus said that's just the way Salazar was. Arrogant and proud. Hopefully not too many people will see it," replied Hermione quietly, completely misunderstanding his point.

Harry shrugged and walked down the hallway with the others. They were in the next hallway discussing ideas for more inter-house competitions when Harry tripped over nothing in particular and fell face-first onto the hard stone ground, barely managing to put his hands out to save himself from injury. _Good work Potter, it's a good thing you didn't actually hit your head on the ground. The castle doesn't need any more cracks in the stone work_. 

Albus assumed that Harry's perpetual limp had been the cause of the accident and said in exasperation, "Jason, that ankle really is more trouble than it's worth. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey would be able to heal that for you."

"I'm fine, Albus, thank you. I just wasn't watching where I was going." Harry sighed and picked himself up off the ground, dusting himself off and checking to see if he'd dropped anything. Albus took this opportunity to turn so that his back was facing Harry and quickly drew Ron and Hermione off to one side, speaking urgently in quiet tones.

"On their last visit to London, Minerva and Severus contained a large scale assault, and wizards were found in an alley near the incident in question." Ron and Hermione's eyes widened in turn. They didn't think that Harry had lied to them when he had told them that he'd seen a wizard pull a muggle into an alley in a London mall and cast a spell on them, but they were hoping he was mistaken as to what he saw. "It is important that you try and find out if our friend saw, or knows, anything more. I needn't tell you to be discreet." 

Harry, for all of his skills, didn't hear any of this because another voice had caught his attention. It was cold and commanding:

"You there! I cannot _see _you, but I can _feel _your presence. You don't belong here. Leave at once!"

"And if I refuse? You are hardly in a position to do anything, now, are you?" a harsh and raspy voice replied.

"I shall notify the headmaster. I don't think he's too far away."

The owner of the harsh and raspy voice paused, as if contemplating those words, before it answered. "This will not be forgotten. I shall be back to lecture you – at length – about your lack of hospitality."

When he was back on his feet again, Harry moved quickly toward the source of the voices, unsure of what he might find. _Who doesn't belong here? And how did they get in?_ Harry thought.

"Jason, where are you going?" Hermione called out as he moved away from them. Harry didn't respond. He arrived quickly to the area where he thought the voices had come from and was surprised to find no one there. Albus, Ron and Hermione caught up to him and found him looking around in confusion. 

"If you like the painting so much, maybe Albus will let you hang it in your rooms," Ron teased in cheek as he, Albus and Hermione found that they had followed Jason back to the hallway where Albus had just re-hung the painting of Salazar Slytherin.

"I thought I heard something, but maybe I just imagined it." Harry said, almost to himself, as he turned to follow them back down the corridor. "Maybe I hit my head when I fell and knocked something loose," joked Harry. He knew he didn't imagine the conversation that he heard, but he couldn't for the life of him, make any sense of it. 

He noticed that Albus was giving him a piercing look, so he smiled impishly to emphasise the humour of his last observation. At that, Albus' gaze softened and he addressed the trio.

"I must beg your pardon. I didn't realise the time. I'm expected in the Great Hall for lunch but I will see you all at dinner." With that, he turned down the corridor, chatting to some of the paintings as he passed them. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned in the other direction and headed towards the couple's rooms. 

"Hey Jason, I know we haven't known each other for very long, but we got you a present, and we hope you won't feel funny accepting it." Ron was rushing his words, as if he didn't quite know what to say. 

_You guys never let me go without presents when we were at school, and you saved me again this year. You haven't changed at all._ Harry mused to himself. "You know, I was going to say the same thing to both of you because I got you each a present as well." 

The all stopped to stare at each other, chuckling at how identical their thoughts were, continuing down the hallways of the castle in good cheer.

*****

The creature of shadows hid itself in the dark places and shadows that the many Christmas decorations in the Great Hall provided. It had followed its intended victim into the hall and had watched him take his seat. He watched as he spoke occasionally with the professors near him and he watched as he slowly ate his meal, head lowered to the table, absorbed in a book laid open before him. 

"Yes... soon... very soon... you will _die_, and _I_ will be rewarded. Master will be pleased. Master may even keep me as his pet," the shadow creature whispered. 

'Jason' had been introduced to Draco and Ginny at the staff table just before they took their seats and he spent the rest of the meal chatting freely to them. Draco had changed considerably since their days as students. Harry had lost contact with him when he was taken to be trained, but he had learned that Draco had followed Professor Snape's lead and had become a spy for Albus after he had been forced to take the dark mark, and since that time he had felt an enormous respect for his one time enemy. 

"Albus has given us our own rooms for a few days. If you have no other plans, come and join us for after-dinner drinks. You too, Hermione, Ron," invited Draco, who had found himself enjoying the company of Professor Green very much. There was something about him that made him feel like he was talking to a long lost friend. The professor's easy wit and ready intelligence ensured that their conversations were always animated and lively. 

"I wouldn't want to impose. Besides, it wouldn't be much of a reunion of family if I was there."

"Please, I insist."

"Yes, please Jason, join us after dinner. We'd love to chat with you some more, and dinner hasn't felt like it's been nearly long enough to get to know you properly," agreed Ginny.

"In that case, I'd be happy to join you all. Thank you."

"Excellent," said Draco.

A shriek erupted from Minerva and everybody in the hall turned in her direction to find a yellow canary seated where Minerva was, not half a minute before.  

"Oh, your brothers' excellent canary creams, Ginny. How ever did you manage to sneak it in front of Minerva?" asked Albus through tears of mirth.

"Albus, I learned from the best. Fred and George taught me well," she replied, laughing. 

Minerva reappeared quite suddenly with a small 'pop', blinking a few times, before joining them in their laughter. During this distraction, Harry noticed Theresa Chan waving her arms at him. Before he could rise, she held up a big sign that said "HE SAID YES!!!" Harry laughed, and Theresa joined in. He was in a playful mood, so he created a sign with his wand that said "TOLD YOU!".  The pair quickly attracted the attention of everyone in the room.

"Er, Jason, what was that about? Who said yes?" asked Ron, immediately getting the wrong idea. Harry knew that Ron thought that the student was referring to something that was far more romantic than what actually happened – and he did nothing whatsoever to disabuse Ron of that notion. 

"Professor Snape said 'yes.' But it's not my place to say anything, so I'll let you ask him yourself," Harry replied with his best innocent expression, trying to suppress a laugh as this information was passed down the staff table and every head turned toward the unsuspecting professor.

"What?!" exclaimed Ron in shock, choking on his juice. It took some minutes for Professor Snape to explain that he had only 'consented' to giving Miss Chan extra classes in potions because she was in danger of failing the subject.

"Extra classes," said Draco lightly, "is that what they're calling it now, Severus? Fairly daring for a student to ask the professor though. In my day, that just wasn't done. The girls didn't proposition the authority figures. It was the other way around." Draco grinned at his former professor and good friend.

"Draco, I have plenty of things in my cupboards that will permanently glue that smart mouth of yours shut," Professor Snape said as he glared at his friend. "Though you might be second in line to get a dose of them," he said as he shifted his glare to Harry, who simply looked back through big, innocent eyes.

Draco looked at Harry and shook his hand firmly. "You and I are going to get along very well." 

"Oh man, watch out," muttered Ginny as she rolled her eyes. 

*****

The professors were the last to leave the Great Hall, unaware they were being followed. Well, with the exception of one. Harry felt a prickling sensation as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but couldn't place the reason for it. He didn't shrug the feeling off though. Experience had taught him to trust his instincts, so he instantly assumed a defensive mindset, never changing his outward demeanour. 

As they moved off down the hallway, no one had any inkling that something was moving into position right beside them. It moved along the wall with the other shadows. But this creature was more than just a shadow. It wasn't confined to appearing along surfaces which reflected the light, but it moved around independent of light, and it wasn't confined to simply moving along surfaces. It could raise itself off the surfaces where the shadows resided and move about freely in the open.  

Ginny, Draco and the professors were saying their 'good evenings' and 'Merry Christmas's. The creature raised itself, much like a cobra preparing to attack. Its intended victim was standing right in front of him, his back to the wall, exactly where it wanted him. Slowly it slithered higher up the wall, stretching its arms, slowly….slowly…slowly…

...and then pounced. 

It moved so quickly that nobody saw what happened. One moment, they were talking together, preparing to go their separate ways to their own rooms. The next moment, they saw Professor Snape being held against the wall by something that they couldn't really see. Quick as a flash, the creature had seized the opportunity and had reached out his arms, grabbing the professor by the neck, dragging him back and pinning him with his back against the wall – one clawed hand holding him in place by his neck, the other hand pulling his head back by his hair to further expose his neck. The creature's legs had wrapped themselves around the top of the professor's arms and chest from behind to keep him still. Oddly enough, it seemed that only the creature's arms, legs and head had pried itself from the wall. The rest of it was effectively still a part of the wall, just as a shadow would be. This meant that the professor could not simply move forward a little and slam the creature back against the wall to shake it loose. He was effectively pinned. 

"Prepare to receive your punishment for your disloyalty!" a gravelly voice snarled.

The rest of the group was shocked and stunned. Snape was grabbed so quickly that they barely had time to register what had happened. They could do nothing but look at the Professor who had a stunned but steely expression in his eyes. He was struggling in the grip of the creature but to no avail. He couldn't move. The creature was his superior in strength and its crushing grip had managed to mark him with more than a few bruises. He was also suffering some damage to his ribs, with the pressure being exerted on his chest. 

Most of the group recovered quickly and some of the professors had pulled their wands out and were trying to stun and hex the creature, but they ceased their efforts when they realised that their spells were having no effect. 

Rather surprisingly, in all of the activity, not one of the spells hit Professor Snape. 

Harry's mind had been prepared for the possibility of action almost as soon as he had left the Great Hall, and this meant that his reaction and recovery time were faster than that of the rest of the group, who had been perfectly relaxed at the time of the attack. Though he could see Professor Snape, he couldn't really see the creature, and if he couldn't see it, he couldn't destroy it, so Harry grabbed a torch off the wall and shone it toward the Professor. It dispelled all shadows but the one holding him, and Harry was able to get a proper look at the creature holding the professor. 

He noticed that it was very small and had the profile of a goblin, though it couldn't have been a goblin. It's legs, while short, weren't stumpy, and it was simply much too thin. The shape looked very familiar to Harry. His mind was working very quickly and the others were only just beginning to cease casting their spells when the pieces of this particular puzzle finally fell into place. 

The creature looked like a shadow that a house elf would cast. It was just the right size and shape for it. More specifically, Harry had reason to believe that it was the shadow of the house elf on the painting of Salazar Slytherin that he saw earlier in the day. He remembered that when he fell over on the way to Ron and Hermione's rooms he had heard voices in the hallway where the painting was hanging. At the time he had thought it strange that someone would be telling someone else that they could 'feel them' even if they couldn't 'see them', and that they should leave because they didn't belong here. It made sense now, but he only hoped that he would be able to act in time.

During his training, he had studied various sorts of dark creatures, and one such creature was the shadow creature. These creatures were not naturally formed, rather they were the result of a very powerful and very evil spell. Things that wouldn't normally cast a shadow could be given one, and the shadow caster could give it any manner of characteristics that they wanted it to have. Shadow creatures were dangerous because they were so hard to see, meaning they could hide among darkness and shadows. They could also hide _within _the object from which they were cast and remain out of sight, since they were, effectively, a part of the object itself. And they were very difficult to destroy. 

He had wondered why the other professors' spells were not harming the creature, even Albus' powerful spells and hexes which were intended to stun and maim were ineffective against the monster. Now he realised that it was not that their spells lacked the necessary power, but that they were simply drawing on the wrong sort of spells - and they were aiming their spells at the wrong object. Curses and hexes, regardless of how powerful or how complicated they are, simply cannot destroy a shadow creature. 

His time was running out. The creature had yanked the Professor Snape's hair back so that his head leaned back, with his face looking directly at the ceiling, exposing his neck fully. The creature removed his hand from around the neck and held one sharp claw to the side of his neck, preparing to slit the Professor's throat from one ear to the other. 

Harry caught the look on the Professor's face. He wore a look of acceptance, mingled with a look of fierce determination, pride and dignity.  He would not beg for his life. He would die with honour. 

Spurring himself into action, he drew his wand and cast a spell to summon the painting to him, While waiting for the painting to arrive, he threw a quick succession of spells to bind the dark creature. 

The creature had already begun to cut deeply into Professor Snape's throat, when its head was thrown back and bound against the wall behind it by a glowing ring of light. The shadow was caught completely by surprise. Its hands flew up to try and remove the restraint but Harry seized the opportunity to bind its hands with the same restraints, now that they were free of the professor's head and neck. The creature kicked its legs against the wall behind it, trying to use its leverage to pull itself free of the bindings, but Harry used the same spells to bind its legs. Professor Snape's eyes, which had shut when he had felt the creature's claw begin to open his throat, flew open when he realised that he had been released from the creature's grasp. Severus slumped against the wall in relief but Minerva quickly grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the group, holding him allowing him to lean on her for support.

Harry had to cast two spells, to succeed in binding the creature. They had to be cast almost simultaneously, so it would look like he was casting only one spell. But Harry had a small problem: he had never cast these spells with his wand before, and he didn't think now was the time to experiment with a different technique. He couldn't very well not use his wand either, because Harry Potter had been highly visible during at least the final battle and certain people, like Albus and Professor Snape, knew that he could perform wandless magic. Harry Potter did not want to come out of hiding, so he did the only thing he could think of doing. He drew everyone's attention to his wand, pointing it at the creature purely for show, while keeping his hand low down and by his side, releasing a powerful binding spell with a tiny, barely perceptible, gesture.

He chose to bind the creature with light, because contact with light is painful for a creature created from evil and malevolence. It was lucky that Professor Snape had his eyes closed, not opening them until the creature was fully bound. Otherwise, he might have been rendered temporarily blind from having looked directly into such a bright light. 

A binding spell in itself would not have been enough to restrain the creature. It was a creature born of magic and as such, couldn't easily be affected by magic. It would have easily removed the trappings, if it hadn't deflected them first. In this instance, Harry had caught the creature off guard, and it didn't have time to deflect the magic being directed at it.  A second spell was required to strengthen the first one, and a split second after Harry had cast each binding spell, he cast a spell of purification and cleansing at the binding.  

Since the creature was created from evil, it would not be possible to purify it, but the combination of spells would not permit any increase in the creature's level of dark magic. This meant that it could not expend any energy, because as a creature born of malevolence, its energy was solely dark energy. The creature had, effectively, been restrained and bound. 

The group followed the direction of the spells back to its caster and stared at Harry in incredulity before parting before him and allowing him clear access to the shadow, which was writhing against the wall and screaming in pain and frustration. Harry was thankful that Minerva had cast a silencing charm around the hallway some moments before so that the rest of the occupants of the castle would not be alerted to what was happening. Harry didn't move from his spot, but he caught the painting as it finally arrived next to him and cast a levitating spell upon it, so it stayed conveniently at wand height. The creature seemed to realise what Harry was going to do, because its eyes widened in terror. The wizard presented a perfectly calm face to the world and fixed a cold glare on the creature, settling his icy mask into place.

"NO!" it screamed. "You musn't!"

The only way to kill a creature of shadows is to either destroy the object from which it was cast, or to purify and cleanse it, almost in imitation of muggle exorcisms. The creature is linked to its object and any purification and removal of evil will inevitably sever its link and it will cease to exist.

"Sir, you and your house elf should visit one of your other paintings for a while," Harry said calmly to the painting's occupants, never taking his eyes off the shadow.

"I shall be very displeased if you destroy my painting, young man. I quite like this one," Salazar responded coldly before disappearing.

"Who sent you?" asked Harry, in a steely voice. The creature didn't respond. It continued to writhe against its chains. 

Harry's eyes narrowed. "If you cooperate, I'll make this quick. Tell me who sent you." Still the creature said nothing. 

"Why are you here?" asked Harry. He knew that the other members of the group would assume that he was asking why Professor Snape had been targeted for the attack, because Jason wouldn't know that Professor Snape was a former Death Eater turned spy for Albus. But he was really asking the creature why he attacked the professor in such a public place, where there was the possibility, however small, of rescue. And he wanted to know whether this was in any way linked to the odd happenings that were occurring across London. 

Still the creature remained silent. 

Harry looked at the monster for some moments before he shook his head and sighed. "We are getting nowhere." He pointed his wand at the painting next to him and set it aflame. This was no ordinary fire though. It was a special fire, all heat and only the illusion of flames. The important part of the spell was the purification charm that was directed at the painting almost immediately after the first spell. 

At first glance, it might have seemed that Harry could have just cast the purification spell at the painting and not have bothered with the first spell. But Harry had learned, the hard way, that the second spell needed the first spell as a focus point. Harry watched as the creature screamed in pain and begged him to stop, but he only looked on icily as the creature suffered. To all outward appearances, he remained unaffected by what he was doing and what he was seeing. Privately, he felt like he was drowning in a renewed sense of self loathing and pain. No one would have suspected this though, because he wore his mask of indifference so well. 

"There will be no mercy," Harry said, as coldly as he could. "Your master should never have tried to kill a Hogwarts Professor. If you take one of us on, you take all of us on. I hope they learn their lesson. If it happens again, we won't be so nice." 

"My master will _kill _you! He will _kill you all_!" it cried as it disappeared from existence, its bindings vanishing as well. 

"Well they'll have to do a lot better than this," muttered Harry, seemingly to himself as he ended the spells which were purifying the painting. He sent the painting back to its place on its wall and turned back to face the other professors. They looked at him with a mixture of shock, fear and awe in their eyes. Even Albus was speechless. He knew that they'd have a lot of questions, which he just couldn't answer, so he spoke before anyone else had the chance, in an effort to stave off the interrogation which he knew would occur eventually.

"I _am _the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. It wouldn't be right if I didn't know anything about dark creatures, would it?" he asked, trying to down play the situation. 

"Where did you…how did you learn…to do that?" asked Hermione, timidly.

Harry heaved a big sigh. "I read it in a book. I can give you the name of it if you really want it." He looked at the group and rolled his eyes. "And stop looking at me like that. It wasn't anything spectacular. If you had read that book, you would have known what to do as well." _But you'd have to train for quite a while to get it right. Believe me,_ thought Harry, with all the tones of someone who had learned from experience. 

"Thank you, Professor Green. And if you don't mind, I would very much like the name of the book you mentioned," said Albus, taking the young man's hand and shaking it firmly.  

"It's called _Malefic Forces of the Dark Arts _by _Errol Fetherstone, _Harry recited off the top of his head.

"That felt like very powerful magic to me," the Astronomy Professor noted quietly.  

"It wasn't actually. There was nothing extraordinarily powerful about it. It was only unfamiliar." He sighed and looked at her, running his hands through his hair. "I'm not _dangerous_, if that's what you're thinking. You'll notice that I directed all of my spells at that...thing…and not at any of you, or the students. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have no intention of doing anything to endanger anybody here. I'm only here to teach Defence Against The Dark Arts, and that's it." He knew that he'd have to leave them alone for a while, so he tucked his wand back into the waistband of his pants and moved to leave the group. He stopped when he heard someone calling him.

"Professor Green," Professor Snape began, his voice barely above a ragged whisper as he was now standing upright on his own. Draco had moved to Professor Snape's side to make sure his good friend and fellow former spy was alright. He had stayed by, one hand on his arm, in an offer of support. When Harry turned around, Snape continued. "I want to… thank you… for your help. I would have been very… unfortunate… had you not been here." Harry absorbed these words. He had never actually heard Professor Snape thank anyone before, and he imagined it must be difficult for him to do so. He knew it must have been particularly difficult for the professor to thank Harry, since they had not been on good terms since his arrival. 

He looked gravely at Snape and nodded his head once in acknowledgment. Casting a critical eye over his wound he said, "You might want to have that looked at Professor. You'll ruin your clothes if you keep bleeding like that," as he turned to leave again. 

Draco left Severus in Madam Pomfrey's capable hands and then moved quickly to stop Harry before he could go any further. "Hey, where are you going? Listen, I want to add my thanks to Severus'.  And you're _definitely _going to have to come and have drinks with me now. I want to write down the name of that book you just mentioned, and any other books you've _ever read, _for that matter," cried Draco. "Do you drink firewhiskey..." Draco continued to chat to Harry as he led the way to his rooms. Ron, Hermione and Ginny followed behind them. Hermione was still troubled. She couldn't seem to get Harry's cold and detached look out of her head. It chilled her to the bone and she was all of a sudden afraid of what this man might be capable of doing if he was pushed far enough. 

Albus stared after them. "Minerva, have you ever heard of the name of that book?" 

"No, Albus."

"I'll make enquiries right away. What kind of school teaches their students something like that? What kind of _teacher_, would do that?" 


	8. chapter 8

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of Harry Potter, or the characters. They belong to the talented Ms. Rowling.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and a big thank you to my beta reader Sepia, your efforts are greatly appreciated J

CHAPTER 8

Harry lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, hands behind his head. The events of the previous evening kept replaying themselves in his mind, and had prevented him from getting much sleep. 

"If I hadn't helped, Snape would have been killed – but...did I have to _destroy_ it?"

And herein lay the heart of Harry's turmoil. He hated – absolutely loathed –  having to kill. Each time he did, he could almost feel a part of himself die as well, the part of him that made him human. A deep sense of guilt and self-loathing had threatened to overwhelm him during those dark years of the war. It was only his deeply ingrained sense of duty and responsibility that had saved him from giving in to the threat of insanity. It had been foretold that he was the only person who could defeat Voldemort. Countless people were depending on him to save them from the dark wizard. He had needed to stay strong because he couldn't let them down, so he closed himself off and did his best to seal his emotions away. 

The voice of logic intruded upon the young man's thoughts. It was the voice of one of Harry's instructors from so many years ago: _"Sometimes it's kill or be killed. When it comes to this - and this is war, so it will – don't hesitate, and don't let the enemy see that it bothers you. I'm not suggesting that you should necessarily look like you're enjoying yourself, though."_

_"Don't worry, that'll never happen." _ _Harry had told his instructor, grimly._

_"I know, but if they see a weakness they'll exploit it and this might get you, or the people around you, killed. Stay calm and stay detached. You have to understand, this is war, and in war, people _die_." _

Logic aside, yesterday evening he had utterly and completely destroyed a living being. The truth of the matter was that Harry had glimpsed a part of himself that he thought he had buried and left behind. During those terrible  years he had feared, more than anything else – even more than anything that Voldemort could have done to him – that he was becoming so accustomed to death and the chaos of the war; that it was becoming a part of him and that he was beginning to thrive on it. He was scared that it wouldn't be too long before he lost the part of him that made him human and that he'd turn into someone like Voldemort. It scared Harry so much that after he defeated Voldemort, he ran from everything that could remind him of the sort of person he thought he was becoming. 

Well, he _thought_ he'd left it all behind – but he had returned to this world, and when he had seen the threat to his colleague, he didn't think twice about killing it.

He ran his hands angrily through his hair and turned his head to look at the photograph on his bedside chest of drawers. _You have no idea what kind of person you were involved with Greg, _he thought sadly to himself. 

*****

A small group of witches and wizards entered the room, shaking with fear. They slowly dropped to one knee and averted their gazes to the ground in front of him. "M-My Lord, the c-c-reature failed." 

"What?" the figure, which remained obscured behind the large screen, thundered. The room seemed to shake in response to the anger in the voice.

The shaking form on the floor tensed, sure that he was going to be punished for the failure, but unsure of what punishment he would receive. "The c-creature fai-"

The tall wizard, who stayed by his Master's side to attend to him, raised his wand in response to his Master's silent instructions and pointed it at the wizard who had delivered the news. "Avada Kedavra!" A flash of bright green light and a scream filled the room – the man died before his Master. "I have no use for incompetent people. I want one of the Hogwarts Professors. Preferably our little spy or his protégé. I want information." 

"Yes, my Lord." The small group shifted nervously in their positions. They looked at one another, a little unsure whether their next piece of news would be well received in the mood their Master was in. "The Minister has told us the location of the body, my Lord," one young witch volunteered quietly.

"Excellent. When will I have it?" the form behind the screen asked impatiently.

"When the Minister tells us which spells protect it and how we can get past them, my Lord. He is a fool who allows flattery and false praise to loosen his tongue," the kneeling figure answered quickly.

"Let's not be _too_ harsh," the undefined form behind the screen softly chastened. "Even fools have their uses."

"Of course, my Lord." The figure nodded, keeping his gaze low and waiting for his master to give him permission to leave.

*****

The next morning, as Harry met with Theresa for her tutoring session, he felt his mind drift to the conversation he'd had with Ginny this morning and smiled. Draco and Ginny had only intended to stay at the castle for a few days over the Christmas break, but they were enjoying themselves so much that they decided to stay until classes began again. Harry had formed a fast friendship with them and he would be genuinely sorry to see them both leave.  _I'd love to see the look on Draco's face if he knew that he got drunk and told Harry Potter about the impotence problem he had when he was 20. _ Harry grinned to himself as he recalled that conversation.

"Just couldn't get it up. Didn't matter what I did. Ginny was pretty unhappy about it all. I mean, she _did _name it –"

"Ah, I think you've had too much to drink Draco. Way too much."

"Nnnnaaaahhhh. No way. Not even close to my limit. Ron's still going, and if he can keep going, so can I. Yeah, so anyway, my tools weren't working properly, so I talked to Severus about it all and he'd read something –  which I thought was a bit fishy, 'cause see, why would he be reading about something like that? But he's always reading, right? So he'd read this article and he whipped something up."

Harry had inwardly cringed. It was his personal belief that Severus and erections should never be mentioned  in the same breath.

"So you're all good then? Everything works the way it should?" 

"_Better _than it should. I can outdo Gin now. I mean, she used to –"

"Stop!" Ginny was like a little sister to him and he didn't want to know about her sex life. He _definitely _didn't want to know about Draco's, but he was holding Draco up and trying to walk him to his room. If he had left, Draco would have spent the night sleeping on the floor in one of the castle hallways. While that was a tempting thought, Harry couldn't do that to his new friend. _Man, sometimes I'm just too nice. Thanks for nothing Draco, I'll never be able to get to sleep tonight. _ 

Harry smiled to himself.  He was able to feel alive when he was with them.  He hadn't felt really alive for such a long time. He loved spending his evenings watching Draco and Ron trying to outdo one another in just about everything, chess, drinking, quidditch...and talking with Ginny and Hermione about everything and anything. Ron, Hermione, Draco and Ginny carried a large part of Harry's history with them, and this strengthened the friendship he was forming with them.

He was able to feel alive when he was with them. He hadn't felt really alive for such a long time. He loved spending his evenings watching Draco and Ron trying to outdo one another in just about everything, chess, drinking, quidditch…and talking with Ginny and Hermione about everything and anything. Ron, Hermione, Draco and Ginny carried a large part of Harry's history with them, and this strengthened the friendship he was forming with them.Um Professor, are you o.k?" Theresa inquired politely, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.  

"Oh, yes. I'm fine. Sorry, I was somewhere else for a minute. Right, now, see if you can disarm me," he instructed, as he continued his lesson. 

*****

"…and I think that he could be a really valuable addition to our Order, Albus. What do you think?" asked Ron.

Albus was deep in thought. He had seen little of his Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor's skills, but from what he had seen, he was sure that he would be a valuable addition to his Order. He had found no reason to doubt the professor's loyalty to himself, but he also had no reason to trust it. He had known Professor Green for six months and in that time the only thing he had been able to determine with any degree of certainty about him was that he was a young man shrouded in secrecy, as many people were in this day and age. Albus' instincts told him that he could trust this young man, but his brain told him that he shouldn't be trusted implicitly, at least not right away. 

"I think that it may still be unwise," Professor Snape quietly commented. 

"How can you even think that?" cried Ron. "He saved your life, Severus, when no one else could. And let's be honest about it, you haven't actually given him much reason to do that, have you?"

Professor Snape ignored the jibe directed at him and replied somewhat coolly, "That's right. _No one else _could help. Even the _Headmaster _could not destroy that creature. I am only suggesting that it seems a very strange…coincidence…that he has been here not six months and already he has saved me from a creature, with magic that only _he _knew how to perform." 

"You'd think you'd be a little more grateful than that," muttered Ron. 

"You have misunderstood me. I am not ungrateful. I gave my thanks to the professor on the evening in question."

"I'd feel better if I knew a bit more about him," piped up Professor Sinistra. 

"I'm sure we all would, but he has made it very clear that his secrets are his own business and, as we have learned, no amount of questioning will induce him to tell us anything he does not wish to."

"Draco and I would offer to get him drunk and ask him about himself, but he doesn't _get _drunk. He drinks, but only just enough," commented Ron, thoughtfully.

"Well, it's a relief to hear that the two of you haven't corrupted him thoroughly," scolded Ginny. 

"I think he's alright. I know he has secrets about his past, but I respect that because I keep my past largely a secret as well," said Draco, in support of his new friend. "But the fact that he knows these obscure pieces of magic makes me wonder where he learned it all. I mean, where would you go to learn that sort of thing? The book that the spell he used to save Severus came from is so rare that I'm having trouble putting my hands on a copy, and I've got the entire Malfoy name and fortune behind me. I mean, I can't get a copy anywhere 'over the counter' and my contacts are having trouble finding one 'under the counter,'" reported Draco with a small frown. 

"I had no problems finding a copy, Draco," said Hermione.

"What?" exclaimed Draco, echoed by Ron, Severus and Albus, who all had obviously been having similar problems. 

"I just asked Jason if I could borrow _his _copy. He was happy to lend it to me. He even gave me the names of a few more books."

Everybody just stared at her.

"I can't help it if you boys wanted to go about it the hard way. Ginny and I have been reading the book for days now," chirped Hermione, sweetly.

"Ginny," said Draco in frustration.

"You didn't ask," she tossed out, flippantly. 

"So, um, what kind of book is it Hermione?" asked Ron cautiously.

Hermione looked very carefully at her husband before heaving a sigh and answering "Yes, Ron, it's one of _those _books – the ones that nobody will confess to owning because it's illegal to have printed. But I agree with Jason. You can't _defend _against the Dark Arts if you don't _know _anything about them."  

There was a short silence in the room. "I think we should ask him to join," said Draco.

"Me too," said Hermione, supportively.

"I agree," said Albus, which shocked everybody in the room. "But, I think that he should be admitted on a low level security status to begin with. The information he has provided us has been very useful, and he obviously has skills and knowledge which will be very valuable for us, should he wish to help us. But, I would feel a little uneasy allowing him to be privy to all of the information we have at this early stage." 

Albus retrieved a quill and some parchment from his drawer and drew up a short note. "If you'll excuse me, I'll just have this left at his rooms. I believe he is currently having a lesson with Miss Chan and he might be quite some time. While we wait for him to join us, I believe that there is something that needs to be discussed." Albus turned to look at Professor Snape before observing "When the creature attacked you the other evening, he said that you were being punished for your disloyalty. Might that mean what I think it might mean?" asked Albus. 

Severus sighed. "I think so. It was an effort to remain discreet during the battle but I did try, fully realising the consequences of what would occur after, if I had indeed revealed myself as a traitor to the Dark Lord." 

*****

Harry returned to his rooms after his lesson with Theresa to find a scroll stuck to his door.  _"Please attend a meeting at my office. We will be there all day. Come when you are ready. Albus."_

Harry ripped the parchment off the door and crumpled it up in his hands. _Bloody hell, now what? If I knew I'd have so many problems after saving Snape I'd have let the idiot die,_ Harry fumed. _Well, they can jolly well wait until I'm good and ready. Albus, I stopped singing to your tune a long time ago, _he thought coldly, after he let himself into his rooms and retrieved the book that Ron and Hermione had given him for Christmas. It was a book on defensive potions and it had given Harry some great ideas for future lessons with his students. He managed to spend several hours in  peaceful study until he was interrupted by a knock at his door. The spells on his door had alerted him to the approach of a person, but he ignored it as he almost always did, because most people simply walked by his door. It was very rare that someone stopped. 

"Professor, I hope I'm not interrupting you," stammered Theresa as Harry opened the door to her. 

"No. What can I do for you?" he asked politely.

"Sir, the Headmaster has arranged for me to see a muggle doctor on Saturday and he said that I should take a member of staff with me. He said I could choose anyone I want, so I was wondering if you wouldn't mind coming with me to the doctor," she asked quickly. "I mean, that is, only if you don't have plans, of course.... It's just that I haven't spoken to anyone but you and Madam Pomfrey about my epilepsy and you seem to know so much about how the muggle doctors and medicines work, and I've never been to a muggle doctor before so I'm scared and I don't know what to expect…" she rattled on.

"I don't have any other plans for Saturday so, yes, I'll come along with you," replied Harry, good-naturedly. 

"Um, sir, the Headmaster said that whoever I ask should notify him themselves about their decision to come along with me." 

_Oh, you're good, Albus. That was cunning, I'll give you that. So you got sick of waiting, did you? _"Right, Miss Chan. I'll do that right now."

"Thanks Professor, I've got to run. Professor Snape said that he might quiz me in my next lesson with him, so I have to go study," she called as she took off down the hallway.

"Right. What can we expect this time?" asked Harry as he made his way to his meeting with Albus.

*****

The hooded figures knelt before their Master, keeping their gaze lowered in submission. 

"Spring the trap as soon as you can. I need that information before we can continue," the form behind the screen directed the witches and wizards before him.

"My Lord, the trap is set. We are merely waiting for the one you want to come and spring it," one young witch volunteered cautiously. 

"Excellent. This is a simple matter, so do not fail me," their Master hissed in warning.

"N-No, my Lord," the kneeling figures mumbled nervously.

*****

Harry knocked politely on the door and waited for permission before he entered the office. He thought he would be meeting with Albus, and perhaps Minerva and Severus. He did not expect to be meeting with about 12 people, including Ron, Hermione, Draco and Ginny. Harry noticed that an empty chair had been set aside at the very edge of the group near the door and he grinned to himself, remembering that the last time he had attended a meeting in Albus' office, he had chosen to sit by the door, ignoring everybody's expectation that he would sit in the middle of the room. _He remembered. I'm touched._

"Albus, you wanted to see me," greeted Harry as he was waved into the seat by Albus.

"Yes. I want to make you an offer, but first I'd like to know a few things." Albus spoke calmly, but when he saw Harry's eyebrows crease in frustration, he immediately added, "You will not be required to answer any questions if you do not wish to. I only ask these questions to determine matters of safety."

"Albus, I enjoy working here, but I really am getting tired of being invited up here for an interrogation about my past or my actions every month or so," replied Harry, eyeing the Headmaster suspiciously. _Now what do you want?_ He thought to himself. Albus was still looking at Harry expectantly, so Harry sighed and went on. "If these questions really are for reasons of safety, I'll do my best to answer them."

Albus pointed his wand at his office door and murmured several incantations under his breath, presumably either to ensure that nobody else would hear what was being said inside the office, though the office seemed pretty secure to Harry. He returned his wand to its place in his robes and paused before finally asking,  "How much do you know about the war against Voldemort?"

_You don't get a question much broader than that, do you? _"Well, I guess I know enough about it to know that I wouldn't want to see one like it again." He wasn't sure what sort of answer Albus wanted, but he thought that the answer he gave was safe. 

"Were you involved in the war at all?" 

_Where are you _really _going with this Albus? _"Everybody was involved one way or another, weren't they? We were all either against him or in support of him, weren't we?" 

"That's true."

"Were you– " started Albus. He was interrupted by Severus.

"Hearing his name does not bother you," Professor Snape noted carefully, with narrowed eyes.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Professor, but Voldemort is dead. He was defeated in the final battle eight years ago. Being afraid of his name now doesn't make sense, does it? But I don't have to tell any of you that, because none of you even blinked when Albus said his name," replied Harry.  

"I have never heard you speak his name before. I have only ever heard you refer to him as 'You-Know-Who'. Why would you do that if the name doesn't bother you?" Snape asked, pushing for more information.

"It's uncommon to find people who aren't bothered by the name. Most people are uncomfortable, and even afraid, when they hear it. I use 'You-Know-Who' so no one gets excited. I didn't know that you were all comfortable with hearing his name used," replied Harry honestly. No one could fault the reasoning of Harry's answer, so the professor kept quiet.

"Were you _directly _involved in the war?" asked Albus. 

Harry chose his words very carefully. He didn't waste time with lengthy pauses. He had been invited to 'meetings' in Albus' office often enough to know that he needed to be on his guard when he spoke, so his mind was already working very quickly.  With an absolutely straight face, he replied, "There were intermittent uprisings and movements in support of the Death Eaters and of Voldemort in the area where I lived. I was often involved in the efforts to suppress those movements." _That was probably the most honest answer I've ever given to Albus. _He silently congratulated himself. 

Many people in the room seemed pleased with his answer. He had given the impression that his involvement was similar to that of a member of the French Resistance during the muggle second world war. They had no idea that his involvement was more akin to a front line English Soldier sweeping through Europe with the rest of the allied armies beside and behind him. 

"What sort of activities did this involve?" pressed Albus.

"Why do you need to know that?" Harry countered. He wasn't going to let them think that they could squeeze information out of him in exchange for the paltry promise of some sort of offer.

"I was simply curious. Of course, you needn't answer if you don't want to," replied Albus, nonplussed.

After a pause, Harry answered the question. _How to phrase this. Hmm...._"I was involved in gathering intelligence, sometimes I was involved in small open confrontations…that sort of thing." Harry suspected that they either wanted to know where he had learned to do the magic involved in saving Professor Snape's life and were willing to make him an offer in exchange for the information, or they wanted to ask him to join the Order of the Phoenix, and this made him very cautious. 

It was Albus' turn to pause. He wanted to know a little about what this young man was like, but he knew that he would refuse to answer direct questions. He hoped that his collection of seemingly innocuous questions would throw the young man off his guard enough to hint at some information about himself. He didn't know that Harry had already guessed that Albus wanted something and was most definitely on his guard. "Do you believe the war is over?" asked Albus shrewdly.

_What kind of a question is that? _He silently mused while he thought about his answer. He was now almost absolutely certain that Albus was going to ask him to join the Order, and he groaned inwardly because he didn't really want to join and he had promised himself that he wasn't going to get involved in whatever was going on.

"I believe that Voldemort is dead, but I don't believe that the fight against what he stood for and what he represented will ever be over."

"Oh God, not another philosophical discussion. Hermione, you'll be right at home here. Go ahead, jump right in," groaned Ron, who was rewarded with a sharp kick from both Hermione and Ginny who were sitting on either side of him. 

"Oh? Ignore my idiot husband and continue please," said Hermione, keenly interested.

"Well, as Ron said, it's all philosophy and not really very interesting, all things considered, is it?" Harry responded. These issues were ones that he had been considering since he was very young and they touched on something that bordered on the personal with him. The contemplation of these issues, among others, had helped him to understand why it was so important that he play his part in the war and had helped to push him through it.

"Please continue, Professor Green. I have had many discussions with the Headmaster about this very issue and would be interested to hear your views on the matter," Snape said quietly from his corner of the room, looking at Harry with interest.

Harry paused to collect his thoughts on the matter, a little unsure of why they were all so eager to hear his answer, but sure that it probably had something to do with trying to determine where his sympathies might lie.  "Voldemort stood for prejudice, hate, and evil. He didn't _invent _those feelings and concepts. He just rallied a lot of people who had the same sort of ideas and beliefs together behind one banner, so to speak. I mean, I know that since he was defeated, we've all lived peacefully, but the attack on Professor Snape the other night shows us that malevolent forces are still out there." 

Harry paused and looked thoughtfully out of the window in the office. "You don't necessarily need Voldemort to have a war. He was a figurehead.  Granted, in this case, he was a very intelligent and powerful figurehead, but we'll never be rid of malice and evil and all of those other things that he stood for." Turning back to the Headmaster, he continued. "So, to answer your question, Albus, no. I don't believe the war is over. Because all it takes is one person, or a few people, with the right skills to start it up again." 

"So you're saying that we will never really win our fight, then?" Professor Sinistra asked quietly, her shoulders slumping a little.

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry. You misunderstood me. We're living peacefully right now, and I'd say that's a victory right there. I think that evil can be suppressed –  it can be intimidated into hiding –  but the war against everything that Voldemort rallied his side for will never be over," said Harry, matter-of-factly.  

All eyes were on Harry. Truer words had never been spoken and they had all discovered a depth to their fellow professor which they had never guessed at. Draco broke the silence, "I'd like to ask you a question, and you don't have to answer it if you don't want to," he began in a quiet voice. "Do you think anything is ever as straight forward as 'good and evil'?" Draco had taken the Dark Mark at his father's insistence, but he had worked for Albus during the war. Consequently, Draco was constantly misunderstood, because many people couldn't understand whether he was a person you could trust, since he had married into the Weasley family and was often seen in the company of Albus, or whether he was a person to look upon with suspicion, because he took the Dark Mark.

Harry understood the question that was asked –  and the question that wasn't asked –  perfectly, but he had to be careful, because 'Jason' couldn't possibly have understood the implications behind the query. "No."

"Why not?" asked Draco, intensely.

"It isn't only 'bad people' who are hateful and malicious. Lots of 'good people', people who stood against Voldemort, are probably capable of being just as malicious and hateful on occasion if they were pushed to it. I mean, malice, hate, contempt – they're all natural human emotions and responses, but I guess the people who followed Voldemort seemed to have let themselves become consumed by it. The people who opposed him, knew that it was unacceptable. Evil is necessary. It's just the absence of good. We can't have one without the other, and we can't really appreciate which one we'd prefer until we've seen both."

Draco nodded, and looked thoughtful. Harry knew that he was thinking about his family, and about himself and the sacrifices he had made. Ginny was holding Draco's hand and she looked at him and gave it a supportive squeeze. Harry pretended not to see this, and continued.

"And, sometimes, _good_ people have to do _bad _things." Harry saw Draco nod his head at this. "I mean, the war was bloody, and neither side was kind to each other, were they? In the end, Voldemort was killed. Murder isn't the sort of thing that good people generally advocate. But it had to be done, didn't it? To rid the world of Voldemort, Harry Potter had to _kill _him. Does that make _him _evil? Did the end ever justify the means?" Harry had to stop here. Everybody just assumed that he had no more to say on the matter, but the conversation was becoming too personal. That same question had haunted him since he was a boy and continued to haunt him today. He had done so many things during the war to sully his soul that he thought he might drown in the guilt and disgust of it all. 

To all outward appearances, he had remained perfectly calm. Inwardly, he berated himself for allowing himself to be put in such a vulnerable situation. Harry looked at the other people in the room. Draco was looking at Harry with such intensity that it actually made him squirm. _Bugger, what have I gotten myself into?_ Draco slowly let go of Ginny's hand, stood up and walked over to Harry's chair. He then offered his hand, in a profound gesture of respect and friendship. Harry rose to shake it, and the two men just looked at each other. 

In the young professor, Draco saw a man who understood – really understood –  something about the life he'd lead and the choices he'd had to make, that few people had ever understood. He privately wondered what this man had had to go through to reach such an understanding, but he would be proud to respect him and work alongside him. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Professor Snape sit up a little straighter in his seat, hands clasped together against his chin, looking deep in thought and reflection.  

Draco used his wand to move his chair so that he could sit by Harry, and Ginny, Ron and Hermione moved to join him. Albus looked on with interest. With that statement, Professor Green had earned the respect of Draco, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and had rendered Professor Snape speechless – a feat in itself. Albus was an intelligent man and could read between the lines of a conversation as well as anyone else could. He knew that the young man had just candidly admitted something of his past to everybody in the room who was listening for it. He had admitted that sometimes good people – possibly like him –  were forced to do terrible things and that the war was responsible for bringing that out in a lot of people.  

"Jason, I would like to make you an offer, and I sincerely hope that you take me up on it. During the war I worked with a reasonable sized group of people , the Order of the Phoenix, to oppose Voldemort and his followers. I still work with the group to maintain the peace and to ensure that any dark activities are suppressed before they get out of hand. I would like to offer you a place in the Order.  You are obviously skilled, intelligent and pragmatic, and I believe you would be a valuable addition to our group."

Harry heard a grunt from the other side of the room and turned to meet Professor Snape's guarded gaze.

_Bugger._ Harry thought to himself. _I didn't want to get involved. They can handle this without me, can't they? They've been doing fine up until now.  _

"Headmaster, I only took the position as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts for a year. I haven't bound myself to anything more long term than that – "

"You may still change your mind," said Albus pleasantly.

"I may, but I also may not. It wouldn't seem right to commit myself to something that I might need to walk away from in six months time." Harry groped for an excuse.

"If you wish to walk away, then that is up to you; but we would still like to have you in the Order for as long as you wish to stay," pressed Albus.

Professor Snape looked decidedly unhappy that Albus was pushing for Harry to join. Harry noticed this and decided to reach for this in an attempt to refuse the offer. Normally he wouldn't be so confrontational, but he was getting desperate to find a plausible excuse for not being able to join the Order without creating even more suspicion about himself by simply turning the offer down flat.  "Headmaster, I think I'm still too new here to be able to work effectively with an Order so well established as your own. Certain members of the Order may not be able to work with me, or trust the quality and accuracy of my efforts."

"Oh, man, here we go again." Ron groaned. 

"Why? What's happening?" asked Draco, clearly puzzled.

"Jason and Severus aren't very...fond of one another. They seem to disagree. A lot. And Severus has a few…trust issues...which aren't helping the situation."

"But Jason saved Severus' life!" exclaimed Draco softly.

"I don't think that means anything to either one of them," said Ron, shaking his head.

"Professor, do you think you would be able to work with me?" Harry addressed Professor Snape. 

"Albus thinks that you would be a valuable addition. I am sure I will have no issues with that," Snape replied coolly and casually.

Harry looked very carefully at him. "You don't know what to make of me, Professor. I know that. You've distrusted me from the start, but now you've been thrown off balance by what happened the other evening." 

Professor Snape stared at the young man. "I did not wish to appear ungrateful, if that is what you are implying."

"That's not what I was talking about, and I don't care about gratitude. I heard you when you thanked me the first time. You've been suspicious of me since I started working here, and now that I've saved your life, you're confused. Come to think of it, who wouldn't be? I've wanted to wring your neck myself on any number of occasions." A few of the people in the room smiled a little at this. "But I _did _save your life and you don't know if it's because I was genuine about it, or if I was trying to lull you into a false sense of trust and set you up for something else. Am I right?" 

The potions master simply looked at Harry and said "I would take no issue to working with you should you decide to join the order, Professor Green."

_Bugger! He wasn't supposed to agree. If you can't rely on Snape to be disagreeable, what _can _you rely on? _he thought forlornly. Harry couldn't think of any other excuses, so he simply said,  "I'll think about it and let you know, Albus."

"Very well. Let me tell you about the sorts of things you might be doing if you decide to join…" began Albus. 

*****

The members of the  Order  filed one by one out of Albus' offices.

class=Section2> 

"We've just got to duck in and give Albus something," Draco told Harry as he and Ginny headed back into the office. "Wait up for us, we'll head back to our room together. There's something we want you to see." 

"Sure." Harry called out, leaning against the wall outside the office and making himself comfortable. 

Professor Snape emerged from the Headmaster's office and walked past him, giving him a level gaze. Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, which caused the older man to stop and turn to face Harry. 

"You gave an impressive performance in there," he observed softly to Harry.

Harry sighed. "I'm not trying to kill you, Professor."

The older man's facial expression didn't change and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Even _you _must admit that it looks a little…coincidental…that I had not been attacked before you arrived, but suddenly I am attacked; and, as luck would have it, you are on hand to be able to destroy a creature that nobody else in this room knew how to destroy," said the professor cautiously.

"I've already told you that if you had read the book that I'd read, you would have known what to do as well. And you're right, Professor. It does look…coincidental. But, come on, you're an intelligent man. It looks a little _too _coincidental, doesn't it? I mean, if I wanted to lull you into a false sense of trust, I wouldn't have set myself up so obviously. Arranging to be _one of _the only ones who happened to reach you in time would have been a little less obvious, wouldn't it? Setting up a situation I could have _helped _diffuse instead of being the only one able to diffuse it would have been more subtle as well." 

The potions master had to admit to himself that Harry made a sensible point. He _had _been quick to assume the worst about the professor, but his overborne sense of caution and suspicion had kept him alive in his dangerous role as a spy for many years, and he wasn't one to disregard his suspicions so quickly. "Perhaps" was all the man said before he turned away and headed back to his own room.

*****

"Would you mind running that by me again? There was a little too much self pity in there for me to understand you properly the first time," said Tony as he sipped his beer. Harry had emerged from his meeting with Albus and the rest of the Order a little worse for wear. He was cranky, irritable and generally peeved.  The only people he ever really spent time with at Hogwarts were Ron, Hermione, Draco and Ginny, but right now he didn't want to see anyone from the Order. He left the meeting and went back to his rooms to study or relax, but he was just too irritable and too full of "why me's?" to be able to concentrate on anything, so he headed out of the castle to see if Tony wanted to head out for a drink. 

"You're just cruising for some pain, you know that don't you?" said Harry peevishly as he drank deeply from his schooner.

"Yeah, yeah. All I got was something about you being wanted for just one thing, which frankly, doesn't sound too bad to me," Tony told him, raising and eyebrow at his friend and grinning suggestively, "and you've done it before – which _does _sound a bit fishy –  _and_ you wanted to tell the head of the group where to shove it, but just couldn't –  but I _don't _know how to take _that_, considering everything I've just heard you say."

"You're sick," Harry said as he glared fondly at his friend. He could always rely on Tony to put a whole new slant on things when his spirits were low.

"Well, yes, but I thought you already knew that. So, help me out here. What's up with you?" 

Harry took a deep breath and began again. "I used to do some work for this group. Um...developing experimental drugs and doing research, that sort of thing. Some of the stuff we did, and the, um, methods we used were – " Harry struggled for an appropriate word. _Appalling, illegal, horrendous, terrifying to the nth degree? _He thought grimly to himself."– unethical." _To say the very least,_ he added silently. He paused to look at his friend, who looked straight back at him, nonplussed. 

"And?" prompted Tony.

"And, well, I'm not proud of the things that we did there. Some of it might be considered illegal, I guess."

"So, why did you do it?" asked Tony, seriously.

"They seemed genuine in wanting to help people, and  I really wanted to help too."

"So why did you _stop _doing it?"

"Because I didn't agree with the methods, I think. I mean, I guess it's that whole thing about whether the end ever really justifies the means."

"Was the group actually helping people, or were they just pretending to. What I mean is, were they developing and researching medication to help people, or was it all just a cover for some bizarre and twisted drug ring, or something like that?" asked Tony cautiously. He had been friends with Jason for quite a while now, and he knew that he was a man of good sense, but he couldn't help feeling a little worried. He just hadn't been himself since he'd lost Greg.

"No," Harry replied as he swallowed his drink. "They really were trying to help as much as they could."

"And your problem is…?" asked Tony, with a look of confusion.

_How to say this…_ "I was assigned a special task, when I was working for them before. It was because there was something that I was particularly adept at." _That's a crude way of putting it. My special skill is that I can kill Voldemort. I wonder where you'd put that on a resume, _thought Harry, with a little amusement. "It was fairly nasty though. If I managed to finish the task, I'd be helping a lot of people, but if I didn't, a lot of people who could have been helped, wouldn't have been." Harry called the bartender's attention and ordered another round of drinks for Tony and himself. 

"Did you do it?"

"Yeah I did, but I wasn't proud of _how _I did it. It grossly breached just about every rule of ethics that we learned at Uni. And I felt terrible." Their drinks arrived and Harry gripped his tightly in his hand. "And now they want me to work for them again because my 'special skill'," Harry hand gestured a set of quotation marks to emphasise those two particular words, "will be useful and valuable to them. They just want me for that." 

"Your 'special skill', they just want you for that? No wonder my mind was in the gutter. All I could think about was you and brothels," Tony said in an effort to lighten the mood. Harry just snorted into his drink and let it go.

"What do you think?" asked Harry, quietly.

"So you agree with their goals, but not their methods, is that it?" asked Tony.

"I guess." 

"How would you feel if you went back to work for them?"

"I'd want to help, but I'd hate myself while I was doing the work, I guess," Harry said honestly.

"O.k." said Tony slowly, giving Harry a searching look. "Was it really that bad?"

"Yeah, it really was."

"Right. How would you feel, if you _didn't _work for them on the project that they want you to work on?" When Harry didn't answer, Tony pressed on, "They want you because you have a particular skill, right? I can't say I blame them. You _are _really good at what you do. How would you feel if you didn't give them the benefit of your skill, and their project failed, and people who needed help didn't get it?" asked Tony, with an insight that he rarely displayed.

Harry stared at him. This had been at the very core of his internal struggle. He didn't want to join the Order. He had worked for them once and he still felt as though he were drowning in the self loathing he felt at what he had done and seen. On the other hand, strange things were happening around London; and Professor Snape, one of Albus' spies, had been attacked for his disloyalty. Something was happening, but he didn't know what it was. Harry knew that he had skills that the other professors didn't have, and that he could help them. He knew that he would never be able to live with himself if something happened, and he was in a position to help, but did nothing. His heart and his sense of responsibility, which had been at war with one another since he was a young boy, battled silently within Harry as he absorbed Tony's advice.

Tony looked straight ahead of him, at a spot on the wall on the other side of the room as he, too, thought about the situation. "You're not stupid, Jason. We both know that there's never been any clearly defined boundaries when it comes to ethics. It may be unethical to use unorthodox and prohibited methods in our field, but wouldn't it also be unethical not to help someone when you can? Since they're both unethical, is any one _more _unethical than the other?"

Harry considered what Tony said. "The lesser of two evils," he muttered.

"Afraid so. And if that doesn't work out, you know you've always got that brothel to fall back on," Tony grinned and said cheekily. Harry turned to punch him. 

"I'll never know how you managed to turn this into a dirty conversation," mumbled Harry. 

"It's a gift. I can pick up a dirty conversation anywhere within a five mile radius, I think. Speaking of which," he cocked his head to his left, "_they're _having a _very _dirty conversation." 

"Tony," Harry said in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Seriously, listen." At this point Tony lapsed into an imitation of the voices of the two men sitting not far from them "If he and his protégé show up at the mall on Saturday, bring them both to my rooms at the inn. I have the rooms booked out for the whole day and they're going to show me a _very _good time. They have something that I want, and I _always _get what I want. " He waggled his eyebrows suggestively while he was saying the last statement "Wow, I wish _I _was that lucky."

"Tony, stop it! They'll hear you. Man, I can't take you _anywhere_," he laughed. Harry felt much better than he did when he arrived and he enjoyed catching up with Tony for the rest of the evening. 

*****

The young wizard trembled as he dropped to his knee before his Master. 

"What is taking so long?" his Master hissed in irritation.

"M-My Lord, the curses are difficult to break. We have lost several people already– "

"I care _not_!" the figure behind the screen boomed, causing the kneeling wizard to wince and brace himself. "I _want_ the body. Hurry the efforts along. I am running out of patience!" 

"Y-yes, my Lord," the young wizard stammered as he hurriedly backed out of the dark room, keeping his gaze  lowered. 0

"It won't be long now," their Master said softly to the wizard standing by his side, a wicked smile on his face. 

*****

Harry tried to think of a few more excuses to use to avoid joining the Order; but in the end his sense of responsibility won the war within himself and told him, in no uncertain terms, that since he knew strange things were happening, it would be selfish to avoid helping Albus when he was in a position to do so. Sighing heavily, he informed Albus of his decision to join the Order on Friday evening. Albus had been delighted and promised to introduce him to some of the other members of the Order when time permitted. _Ah, only _some _of the other members, Albus? So you want my skills, but you're not willing to trust me. Well, it works both ways Albus. I want your information, but I'm not willing to trust you completely either. I won't mindlessly dance to your tune again. _Never_ again,_ he thought grimly to himself. 

And so, it was with low spirits that he accompanied Theresa to her appointment with the doctor Saturday morning, and sat with her in the doctor's office patiently waiting while she and the doctor discussed her condition. When the doctor began mentioning the appropriate medication, Harry shook himself awake and paid attention. Theresa wasn't familiar enough with muggle medication to be able to remember the details and so he would need to be able to explain it to her later on. He questioned the doctor closely on the dosages she would need to have, and then, after explaining that he was a pharmacologist himself, questioned him closely on the advantages of the medication he was prescribing over some of the other similar medications on the market. He wanted to be able to mix up the same medication for Theresa, so he wanted to know precisely why he was using certain ingredients instead of others. The doctor was very helpful and wasn't at all offended by such a line of questioning. 

"You must be the professor Albus was talking about," observed the doctor as they were about to leave the office.

"Um, yes." Harry thought that was a very odd thing for the muggle to say.

"Yes, Albus is a good friend of mine. My aunt, Emmaline Vance, was a witch and she used to talk to me about Hogwarts all the time.  Used to make me absolutely jealous. I'd have given anything to have lived in a real castle and be able to cast spells," he said, wistfully. "Ah well. Good luck with it all and come back and see me if you've got any problems, o.k Theresa? Oh, incidentally, if the pharmacy asks you if you'll settle for a chemist brand substitute, tell them that you won't. Actually, better yet, I'll write it on there myself." He added the short note and handed the prescription back to Theresa. "Say 'hi' to Albus for me, won't you? Bye!" he called to them as they were leaving the door.  

"Yes, sir," she answered, holding the prescription tightly. This was her ticket to a relatively normal life, and she wasn't letting go of it for anyone. 

When they were standing on the street outside the doctor's surgery, Theresa looked questioningly at her professor. "Professor Green, what's a pharmacy?" 

"It's a shop where medications are sold. Some medications treat very specific illnesses. They're dangerous if people take them when they're not sick, so for those medicines, you need a doctor to give written permission for the pharmacy to sell them to you. That's what the prescription's for."

"Hmm. Are we going to get the medicine now?" asked Theresa.

"Yes. There's a little pharmacy in the mall. We'll go there." Harry decided, happy to be able to visit his pharmacy again. His pharmacy was friendly and orderly and it had won various awards for excellence and service since he had assumed ownership. A sense of pride, mingled with curiosity, made him want to visit it as a customer. No one would recognise him, because he was wearing his concealment. He thanked his luck that his concealment also altered the tone and sound of his voice, so he wouldn't give himself away. 

"Is it the pharmacy _you_ used to work at?" Theresa inquired, curiously.

"No, if I visited my old work place, we'd never be able to leave because we'd have to stop and chat to everyone. This one's got a good reputation though, so it'll be o.k.," assured Harry, who felt a little guilty for having to lie to Theresa. 

Albus had given them the location of several portkeys that would be able to take them to various places around London. They traveled to a quiet street which was a short distance from the mall and walked the rest of the way. They were both surprised to see both Professors Weasley, Minerva and Snape, accompanied by Draco and Ginny, wandering the length of the mall. _You're kidding me. Are they _still _patrolling this area?_

*****

"You're joking!" Draco cried in soft astonishment. "Why weren't _we _told about this?" Draco asked, referring to Ginny and himself.

"We didn't really have much of a chance to tell you. We haven't had a meeting since before Christmas and you and Ginny have been more or less completely occupied since you got here, which is fair enough, since you don't come and visit often," said Hermione in placating tones. 

"So, was it true? Did it check out?" asked Draco, seemingly satisfied 

"Yes," verified Professor Snape. "Minerva and I were watching this area after we received his information and when another incident erupted, we found wizards hiding in a nearby alley. One of them even recognised Minerva."

Ginny's eyebrows were creased in thought. "But you've all been watching this area pretty closely for a while now, haven't you?"

"Yes!" shouted Ron in exasperation, "and if we have to _continue _watching it for much longer I think I'll resign my position." Nobody said anything, but Hermione glared at her husband.

"I'm just wondering how _he _managed to see these wizards when none of _you _did." Ginny was puzzled. 

"I wondered the same thing, myself," offered Professor Snape quietly. "He said he was on the opposite side of the mall and had a larger range of vision than we did on this side of the mall, and that he saw it out of the corner of his eye."

"Severus, he really would have been able to see more if he was on the other side of the street when that assault broke out, rather than in the middle of the crowd.  It really is quite lucky that he saw it, otherwise, we'd still be none the wiser," Hermione defended.

Professor Snape arched an eyebrow. "Yes, quite lucky."

"Don't turn around, just listen carefully. You're being watched." A quite voice interrupted them. 

*****

Harry and Theresa left the prescription with the pharmacist – Tony was on duty today – to be filled. Theresa was fascinated by the muggle cosmetics and wandered over to have a look.

Harry was pleased to see that one of the pharmacy assistants had gone to ask if she needed a hand. He was proud that his staff were so attentive and courteous. The two girls were soon involved in a deep discussion about the products so Harry turned his attention to the five witches and wizards who were standing across street from his pharmacy. He idly wondered if he should go over and say hello to them and maybe even ask them what they were doing here? After all, it wouldn't look odd. Muggles often meet up with people in the mall. He had a few minutes to spare, so he checked that Theresa would be o.k here for a few minutes, before he left. 

As he walked over, he saw Goyle Jr. walk behind the group of five and nod significantly at them as he looked at a man who, Harry thought, must have been standing a little to his left. He casually turned around to look at the people in the surrounding area. He recognized a few of the ones hiding behind newspapers and magazines as former Death Eaters from the war and people he went to school with. Some were seated at tables; others were wandering through the mall, just as he was doing, but he noticed that they were all watching the group, sending glances at them as often as they could without raising suspicion.

Harry tensed up and his instincts kicked into gear. Casually, so as not to raise suspicion, he walked toward the back of the group and dropped down under the pretense of tying up the laces on his joggers. He whispered just loudly for the five witches and wizards to hear him. "Don't turn around, just listen carefully. You're being watched."

He heard Ron inhale sharply and sensed every single person in the group tense up immediately. "Most of the men sitting across the street reading newspapers and magazines, have been watching you for a while. Those are the ones I've seen, there are probably more that I haven't," said Harry very quietly, still pretending to fumble with his shoelaces. I think it would be a good idea for you to head back to the school and let Albus know that you've been recognized." Without saying anything more, 'Jason' stood up and headed back toward the pharmacy.

*****

The group of five were prepared for just such an emergency. Before each of their missions, Albus routinely provided each of his professors (and, on this occasion, Draco and Ginny) with vials of metamorphagus potions which he would trust no one but Professor Snape to brew. The group quickly ducked into the nearby toilets and drank the vial in the privacy of their own cubicle. It didn't matter if anyone had watched them go in, because they wouldn't recognise them as the people they were looking for when they came out. Professor Snape had made this potion stronger than was strictly legal and it was able to alter not only external features, but also body shape for a specified period of time, in the same sort of way that a polyjuice potion might. It was then a simple matter to cast a spell to alter the clothing they were wearing so that it couldn't be recognised by the people who had been spying on them. 

On the whole, the potion was a very effective one, but the residual cramps and other side effects were quite strong and more than just a little unpleasant – which is why they didn't routinely use these potions, but anything was better than being injured or killed. They were able to identify each other through a series of pre-arranged hand signals, and once they found each other they headed back toward the pharmacy to speak to Jason, confident that they would not be recognized.

"Now that I'm looking for it, I can see that we're being watched by some of the people sitting at the benches, but why didn't one of us notice before now? I mean, now that I think of it, it does seem a little odd that there are so many people sitting down reading newspapers," muttered Hermione. 

"I only saw people sitting behind newspapers, and I was under the impression that many muggles sit and read the newspapers," observed Professor Snape.

"Well, yes they do, but it's not normal to see quite so many I think," answered Hermione, still looking cautiously around her. 

"Good thing Jason warned us, but what's he doing here?" asked Ron.

"He told us yesterday, he's supposed to be taking Theresa to get her medicine today," Hermione reminded Ron with a roll of her eyes. She noticed that Draco and Ginny looked confused and so she explained Theresa's condition and 'Jason's' role in the whole situation. 

"Look, there he is," Minerva discreetly pointed out. Harry was standing in front of the wall of vitamin supplements, which was, conveniently, right at the front of the pharmacy and in an ideal spot for Harry to be able to keep an eye on what was happening outside. He couldn't see Draco, Ginny and the professors anymore, but that didn't mean that they'd gone back to the school, and that's what worried Harry. The Death Eaters were clearly active again, and judging by the behaviour of the those keeping an eye on the small group, he had more than a sneaking feeling that whatever they were planning to do today involved them.  

He was startled when he was approached by a group of five people he had never seen before. At first he thought they were those who had been spying on the Hogwarts group; that they'd seen him talking to them despite how careful he'd been, but they quickly convinced him of their identities by providing him with details that only Draco, Ginny, Severus, Minerva, Ron and Hermione would know. Once he was satisfied that they were who they claimed to be, he asked them why they were all together in muggle London, pretending that he was unaware of the answer. Albus had not given him that information and to all intents and purposes, he wasn't supposed to know anything about it, but he wanted to see if he could pressure a few answers out of one of them. 

"Well –" 

"Theresa Chan," Tony called. Theresa looked at Harry and then headed over to the pharmacist to collect her medication. 

"Excuse me," said Harry as he moved off to join Theresa at the pharmacist's counter. Once Tony discovered that she had never used that particular medication before, he explained the proper dosage to her and talked about the possible side effects she might experience.  Tony was a friendly person, and he put Theresa at ease immediately. Harry was pleased that he had left his pharmacy in such capable hands.  He even walked Theresa to the front counter and offered to ring it up at the cash register himself

"It's not often I get such a pretty girl calling me 'sir', so I'll ring that up for you myself." 

"You're a pharmacist _and _you can operate a cash register. You're a talented man," laughed Harry easily. 

"Yes, well maybe I should get you to write that down so I can show my boss. I don't think he appreciates just how valuable I am. In fact, I think I'll remind him of just how valuable an employee I am when I next see him. And then maybe I can ask for a raise, what do you think?" Tony asked, falling into an easy banter with Harry and Theresa.  

They never made it to the front counter because a group of men, all carrying automatic and semi-automatic weapons, crashed through the front door and opened fire on the pharmacy. Harry's reflexes kicked into action immediately and as soon as the men opened fire, he picked Theresa up and threw her bodily over the counter they were standing next to so that she could take cover, before leaping over the counter to join her. Without thinking he crouched down behind her, shielding her body with his own. Some people had dived for cover, and some people had stood stock-still in shock. Harry feared for those people who were simply too scared to move, but he saw that they were quickly being dragged down by the people already on the ground.

The spells that Harry had placed on his pharmacy to alert him if its occupants were in danger were going off inside his head. With the alarms ringing in his ears, Theresa screaming and crying hysterically, the other patrons of the pharmacy screaming and yelling and the sound of gunfire all around him, it was difficult for Harry to think. Looking around, he noticed that Tony was crouched between two counters not far from where he was on his left hand side, and Draco, Ginny and the four professors had taken cover a small distance away on his right hand side with a small group of women and children. 

Though no one was paying any attention to him, he couldn't use his magic because the bullets ricocheting in all directions made it dangerous to look over their cover, and he needed to be able to see his targets. When Harry did dare to take a peek , it seemed that the men were generally shooting at the walls, seemingly more intent on causing damage to the property than injuring people. He quickly ducked his head back down as another spray of bullets flew in his direction, but he snapped his head back up again when he heard a startled cry from Tony, who had fallen face down on the ground in his hiding spot. Harry could see a dark crimson stain forming on his pharmacist's coat where a bullet had lodged itself in the area of his left shoulder blade. _Shit!_

"Theresa," Harry said, shaking his student in an effort to get her attention. She took no notice of Harry and carried on screaming. "Theresa!" Harry said a little more loudly, to no avail. Sighing in exasperation, he grabbed her chin between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand and forced her head around so that she was facing him. 

"Theresa,' he said loudly, over the sound of the bullets, "somebody's hurt and I need to see if they're o.k. Stay here and stay down. Ok?_ Just stay down_."

Theresa was crying and shaking her head, her eyes wide with fear as she heard bullets being fired off to her left somewhere. 

"No, professor –"

"Theresa. You'll be fine. Just stay down. Don't look up until I come and get you, o.k? Just. Stay. Down." Harry signalled to Professor McGonagall – at least he _thought _it was Professor McGonagall – that he was heading to check on the injured man, and that she should stay with Theresa.  There was no way that Professor McGonagall – or whoever it was – could move from where they were. They were hiding with a group of hysterical women and children themselves, who were holding on to them for dear life and couldn't move if they wanted to. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head helplessly to indicate that she couldn't go anywhere. 

Swearing to himself, Harry muttered a short but complicated spell under his breath and discreetly created a shield of sorts to protect Theresa in his absence. Harry angled his body so that his form hid the small gesture he used to release his spell. He silently berated himself. _That should have been the first thing you did! You're definitely losing your edge._ Satisfied that his student was safe, he hurried off to Tony's side, being careful to stay low to avoid being hit by stray bullets. 

"How're you holding up?" asked Harry when he reached Tony.

"I've been better," answered Tony from between firmly clenched teeth. He was in a world of pain. "I don't understand. How did I get hit? I was down low and everything."

"One of the bullets must've ricocheted off the table behind you. I know it hurts but I want to see if the bullet's gone straight through, o.k?" 

"Are you a doctor?" asked Tony as Harry lifted up his left shoulder to see if there was a wound on his chest to match the one on his back.

"No way. I've had some experience with treating minor injuries though," replied Harry, without missing a beat. "Yep, it went straight through." He lay Tony back down.

"I have to tell you, I'm a hemophiliac, so I guess I'm in a bit of trouble, huh?" said Tony, matter-of-fact, while clenching his jaw in an effort to deal with the pain. 

Harry knew about Tony's condition, which was one of the reasons that  he was so anxious to check on him. "Just hang in there until we can get an ambulance here, o.k?" Harry responded, while removing his long sleeved over-shirt and applying pressure to the wound in an effort to slow the bleeding. As he did this, he subtly let a standard grade pain relieving spell flow through his fingers, angry that his friend was hurt, and wishing he could give his friend more relief. He needed to get Tony out of here, fast.

"Professor!" screamed Theresa as the lights above her head shattered and shards of hot glass cascaded down around her. 

Although the glass dropped onto her, it didn't actually _touch _her. The shards seemed to fall about a centimetre away from any part of her skin, such was the nature of the protective spell that Harry had cast upon her. She was so scared that of being cut and burnt  she didn't even realise she wasn't actually hurt.

"Theresa. You're o.k. Just stay down." Harry tried to reassure her, but she couldn't hear him and she screamed another piercing scream before yelling for him again.

"Professor!!!" 

Harry was about to leave Tony and move back to where Theresa was hiding when an unfamiliar voice cried out:

"STOP! STOP SHOOTING!" 

The men instantly stopped firing their weapons upon hearing the command, but it took a little longer for the people in the room, including Theresa, to stop screaming. In that time, the tall blond man who had given the command cocked his ear to one side, listening to their screams and yells as they gradually ceased and started to walk over to the counter where Harry, Theresa and Tony were hiding, stopping only when he came to the section that Theresa was hiding behind. 

"Someone was crying for their professor, and I believe it was you," he said ominously, reaching down behind the counter for Theresa. Theresa had seen the hand reaching for her and backed away. 

He stayed where he was and looked at her menacingly. "I want to know who your professor is, little girl. Tell me." Harry didn't want to expose himself as a wizard if he didn't need to, but he definitely had to do something. He looked over to the witches and wizards to see if they were able to do anything, but the women and children who they were hiding with were still hanging on to them in fear. They weren't in a position to do anything. Harry's mind worked quickly.

"Come on little girl. Where is your _professor_?" Still, Theresa said nothing, her eyes wide with fright and shaking her head in a silent 'no' as she backed away from him, crawling until her back met the wall. The blond man was becoming impatient and he slowly and menacingly rounded the counter to come nearer to her, his eyes flashing and his hand outstretched. He reached out a hand to grab Theresa, but his awareness erupted in an explosion of blood and pain and he looked down in shock at the bloody mess that was his hand, before he fainted.

Everyone was momentarily stunned. Harry had acted with such speed that no one really knew what happened. Crouching next to Tony, Harry gave up caring whether or not he exposed himself as a wizard as the man attempted to grab Theresa. As he was reaching for his wand, he quickly remembered that Tony had told him that now that there was so much gang violence around London, he started carrying a small knife around in the back pocket of his pants, for his own protection. 

_"A knife, Tony?"_

_"Well, yeah. I think it's becoming necessary. Even my flower lady carries a knife with her these days. It's becoming  just that bad, Jason."_

_"Yeah, but do you even know how to throw one of those properly?"_

_"How hard can it be? It's not like it's a really _big _knife or anything. Just aim and throw, right?"_

_"Yes, but, _can_ you aim and throw?  You _know_ how you were always the last to be picked for teams in P.E. in school."_

_"Yeah…"_

When Harry saw the man reaching for Theresa, he had grabbed the knife on Tony without a second thought, flicked the blade out and thrown it – and it had embedded itself in the palm of the hand that was reaching for his student. The man was thrown back in shock and in pain. While everybody's attention was on the blond man, Harry quickly focused his magic and threw a simple stunning spell at him, making the smallest of gestures with his hand, who collapsed to the ground as if he had fainted.

Harry took advantage of the momentary shock and confusion to run out to the armed man closest to him and snatch his weapon from him before he realised what was happening.. 

Harry knew that these men were more likely than not acting under the Imperius curse, and that asking them to drop their weapons would be a waste of time, so he let loose a spray of gunfire at the floor in front of them; at the same time discreetly throwing general stunning spells at them. Since everybody's attention was focused on what he was doing with his gun, no one was looking at his other hand, which he kept down low by the side of his leg while he released his magic. Harry had hoped to be able to stun them all before any of them came to their senses and shot at him, but he just wasn't fast enough. One of them managed to let loose a round of bullets before he was stunned, one of which hit Harry in his shoulder and three of which hit him in his chest. 

The reasonable person wouldn't think any less of Harry for not having dodged _all _of the bullets, since he _was _trying to do quite a few things at once, but Harry couldn't excuse himself. _Shit! I must be getting slow. This wouldn't have been a problem in the old days,_ he thought as he lay on his back. _Where are the police? _thought Harry to himself. He turned around and saw that it looked like a SWAT team had surrounded the pharmacy and were waiting for the opportunity to go in. _Great guys, where the bloody hell were you about two minutes ago?! _thought Harry, painfully.

He winced sharply as he got up and looked around the room to see if anyone else had been wounded. Seeing that no one seemed to be hurt, he headed back to check on Theresa and Tony. Theresa was only in shock, but Tony had lost a fair bit of blood. His blood hadn't begun to clot around the wound, despite Harry's best efforts to slow the bleeding down 

The SWAT team outside could hear that there was no more gunfire coming from inside the pharmacy, and they took that opportunity to storm the building. They ran inside in a steady stream of pairs and moved so that they had men in all parts of the room.

In all of the confusion, Harry heard two sharp cracks. Two of the former Death Eaters who had been seated outside, keeping an eye on the professors and Draco and Ginny had apparated into a crouching position in a corner of the pharmacy. Before he could react, the room was suddenly engulfed in thick smoke. The SWAT members hadn't created it, because they were yelling instructions to one another in confusion, but Harry could hear several voices near him.

"Get him up. We can't let the muggles find him."

"Did you see Snape or Malfoy around?"

"No. I didn't see that McGonagall woman either. Hurry up with that."

"I'm trying! _Portus!…_Come on, drag him over here to touch this. Shit. We're in for it this time." 

"Professor! Professor! Are you o.k?" Harry shifted his gaze as Theresa's voice broke into his awareness.

"Jason! We have to leave right now. We can deal with this at the school, we don't have anything on us to help you, but Poppy will be able to heal you faster than the muggles can."

"Huh? No, wait, I have to check on–"

"_Professor Green_, we must leave immediately. Our involvement _cannot _be discovered." _Has to be Snape_, Harry thought upon hearing the tone of voice. He felt himself being lifted into a half standing position and then supported on either side. 

"I can stand on my own. I'm fine – " He started to say, but was abruptly cut off again.

"Keep low.  We'll use the fog to leave. There has to be a back door in this place," one of their group said as they continued to support him on one side. 

They half ran, half stumbled to the back of the pharmacy. There were so many people around that they couldn't avoid all of them, and one of their group was quietly stupefying people as they encountered them, using the fog to shroud the fact that they were holding a wand.

"Hang on a minute!" cried Harry as he struggled to break free of the people trying to support him and drag him along at the same time.

"We need to hurry!" hissed one of their group. 

"No, let me grab something. We'll need it, I think," he said as he stumbled past them. They were standing in the small kitchenette at the back of the pharmacy and Harry stumbled into the pantry to grab something. His hands fell upon a kettle, so he took that back to the group.. Albus had informed Harry that there was a portkey in a small alley at the other end of the mall, but he was bleeding quite freely and he would definitely attract a little too much attention walking there. The two men who had apparated into the pharmacy had created a portkey, and Harry decided to follow their example. 

"Hurry up!" one of their group whispered urgently as he felt someone take hold of one of his arms again.

"Let's get out," said Harry as the small group moved out of the back door, which faced a small alley full of bins and other disposal units. 

While it was true that Harry was hurt, he had learned how to overcome and deal with pain during the war. Someone once explained to him how it was possible to endure even the most excruciating pain and it had something to do with will power, endorphins and adrenalin. He was telling the truth to the group when he said that he could walk on his own. He knew from experience that he was able to deal with pain and do what he had to do. He had to admit, though, that it was nice to have people so hell bent on coming to his aid. So Harry stopped struggling and allowed the group to help him outside the pharmacy. 

"Here," said Harry as he gave the kettle to one of the group. 

"What's that for, Professor?" asked Theresa, nervously.

"We need a portkey out of here," explained Harry.

"Of course," said a member of their small group as they cast the spell which would transform the object into a portkey. Harry could have done this himself, but there was a very good reason why he didn't offer to. When someone from the group mentioned that Madam Pomfrey would be taking care of his wounds, it occurred to him that once his shirt was removed, she would see the scars that decorated his torso, his back and his arms. She would inevitably tell someone about them and this would raise more questions, which he really didn't want to have to deal with right now. 

While one of the professors, or Draco, or Ginny – he couldn't tell which – was casting the Portus spell, he cast a concealment spell to work with the one that he was already wearing, which would conceal his scars without affecting the appearance of the bullet wounds. In an effort to buy himself more time, he pretended to have an extended (albeit painful) coughing fit. While he was doing this, he concentrated on his image in his mind. He knew what he looked like and he concentrated on how he wanted to alter his image. He removed all but a few scars, which he left on, just for effect. While the professors were trying to help him sit comfortably on the ground, he discreetly released his magic. 

He had left his long-sleeved over-shirt with Tony in the pharmacy and was only wearing a thin long-sleeved casual shirt. Even though it was January, he pretended that he was feeling quite warm and pushed his sleeves up, to check that the spell had worked. He was quite confident about his ability to manipulate his own magic, but it never hurt to check. He gave a small sigh of relief when he saw that it had worked.

"Jason, let me heal those wounds a little bit," one of the group demanded. "I'm not a healer, but I can slow the bleeding by closing the wound up a little."

"I don't know if that's such a great idea. The bullets will have to come out, and if you close the wound up Poppy will only need to re-open them again," Harry answered, breathing heavily. "Painfully, I'd imagine." He grimaced.

"I'll just close them lightly. I couldn't close them fully if I tried, as I said, I'm not a healer. You're losing too much blood, and it's still a bit of a distance from where we can safely arrive by portkey and the castle."

Harry agreed with her reasoning and two of the small group – he couldn't tell who, which was slightly unnerving – opened up his shirt and lightly closed the wounds. He felt them pucker and saw that the blood flowed far less freely now. 

"Thank you," Harry said, still out of breath as his shaking hands fumbled with his buttons in an attempt to do his shirt up again to restore his modesty. The entire group was staring at his chest and his wounds, giving sympathetic winces to the pain he must be in, and of all the things that irritated Harry to no end, people staring at him was right up near the top of the list. He'd had enough of people staring at him when he was younger and he wasn't going to put up with it now. One of the group snapped themselves into action and did the buttons on Harry's shirt up for him, slapping his trembling hands away in the process.

"Right, let's go," said the mystery witch – or wizard –  that had transformed the kettle into the portkey. They all reached in to touch it and felt themselves transported back to the small village just outside of Hogwarts, which was as close as they could get to the castle. It was possible to take a portkey _out _of Hogwarts, but impossible to take a portkey _into _the school.

When they arrived, Harry saw someone conjure a stretcher for him. 

"Oh, hell no! No way. I can walk," he said. During his earlier years, he had never allowed himself to be carried off on a stretcher unless he was unconscious, and as such unable to protest. In this particular regard, he hadn't changed. His keen eyes spotted one of their group raising their wand to him and quick as a flash he drew his own wand. "Don't even think about stunning me, because I won't let you. It's just a matter of pride, so leave it at that. I'm sure _some _of you can understand that.  My injuries aren't life threatening and we moved so fast that I haven't lost enough blood to be in any real trouble. In any case, you've slowed the blood loss down so it's not a real danger yet."

"We understand."

"Thank y-" Harry started to say. He couldn't finish his sentence because Theresa pulled out her wand and stunned her professor from behind, desperate to be able to help. 

"Thank you Miss Chan," said one of the professors as they pointed their wand and cast the spell which would lift Harry onto the stretcher. Two of the group then used their wands to guide the stretcher to the castle.


	9. chapter 9

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of Harry Potter or any of the characters. Only the plot is my own. 

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the story. A big thank you to my beta, **Sepia**, your efforts are greatly appreciated. J 

Thank you to **Maxwell Demon **who has lent her artistic talents to the fic.  Her pictures have been uploaded onto her website. I can't upload her website address on FFnet but her website address is on my author profile page. I'll try and think of another way to get it in here. If anyone has any suggestions…

Follow the link and then click on "Lady Assassin's" Link. Her pictures correspond to a certain section of the text, so if you'd like to wait till you reach that part, I'll let you know where it slides in with a double asterisk.

CHAPTER 9

"What on earth has happened?!" cried Poppy as she rushed forward and motioned for the group to lead Harry to one of the beds. "And who _are _you?" she exclaimed raising her wand at the strangers as she realised that she didn't recognise any of the people who had come in with Harry.

"Poppy, it's me, Minerva," answered the professor impatiently as she made the pre-determined signal to indicate that they were in fact Hogwarts Professors, with one of her hands. The others also made the same gesture to Poppy, who nodded her head and turned back to her patient. 

"What happened to _him_?" she asked crisply as she moved brusquely to her store of potions and then returned with several vials. She poured a small amount of the contents of one of the vials into several cups and offered them to each of the members of the small group except Theresa, who was still looking with concern at her Professor, who was now lying on the bed, breathing shallowly, his torso and clothing covered in blood. The five witches and wizards drank the potion, which would remove the illusion created by the metamorphmagus potion.

"He was shot. A few times," replied one member of the group as the illusions began to fade and the five people eventually began to look like themselves again. The process would take a couple of minutes. 

"Good Heavens, " cried a startled Madam Pomfrey as she hurried back to her store of potions and returned with a few more vials. She revived Harry who immediately starting yelling at everyone in the group, for doing something so despicable as stupefying him after they had reassured him that they wouldn't. He would have directed his comments to the person who actually stunned him, but he had no idea who did it.  

"You _stunned_ him? What on earth for?" asked the medi-witch as she tried to calm her patient down.

"Madam Pomfrey," said Minerva quite loudly and suddenly, "do you perhaps have a calming potion for young Miss Chan? She has been through quite a lot and I'm sure she could do with some rest," said Minerva with a pointed look at the nurse and then at the group gathered around her. This conversation could wait until the student was asleep in one of the beds on the other side of the ward. Once Poppy had settled her into a bed a significant distance from where the group was and had urged them all to keep their voices down, Draco revived their former topic of conversation. 

"We stunned him because Captain Stubborn wouldn't let us put him on the stretcher. And, incidentally Jason, none of us said that we wouldn't do that. Minerva just said that she understood what you were saying, that's all," said Draco heatedly. 

"She didn't understand too well if she allowed it happen," replied Harry, coolly.

"All things aside, you should have just let us do it in the first place," said Ron, leaping to Minerva's defence. "It shouldn't have been a big deal."

Harry looked at him for some moments before responding very quietly and gravely. "It was personal. You wouldn't understand." He lay back down on the bed and looked away from the group.  The silence was tense and, in an effort to do away with the awkwardness, Madam Pomfrey showed Draco, Ginny, and each of the professors to a bed, which were quite near Harry's own bed. The side effects of the metamorphmagus potion would be setting in soon and they would be needing pain numbing and sleeping draughts to get them through the rest of the day and the night.

"As for _you_," she said when she returned to Harry's side, "those bullets will have to come out, and I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt," Minerva said in a firm business like voice as she approached Harry with her wand. Harry groaned. _Same old, same old, _he sighed inwardly.

*****

Harry watched – and winced quite a bit – as Poppy opened up his wounds and then muttered an extraction spell to pull the bullets out. It still hurt, even though he'd taken a couple of doses of the pain numbing potion that Poppy had provided for him. He watched as she carefully healed the damaged tissue and cleaned the wounds, speaking the spells softly and swiftly, barely pausing for breath.  Her hands moved with a finesse that came from years of experience, and they moved with a gentleness that spoke more loudly of the care with which she looked after all of her patients than any words ever could. "There. Now stay still while I just…there," she said as she pulled the wounds together again and cleaned them before making them disappear entirely, leaving nothing but a faint scar. 

"Now you listen here," she said more sternly. "I wasn't very happy that one of the professors stunned you before, but now I'm glad that they did." Before Harry could protest, she held up one hand to silence him. "Aside from the fact that the bullets in your shoulder damaged some of your ligaments and muscles, one of those bullets in your chest grazed your lung. The damage was easily fixed…this time.  But if you had tried to walk to the castle you might have made it worse, and if that was the case, I would have been very put out with you."

"Poppy, I – "

"I don't want to hear it," the medi-witch spoke over Harry. "I'm going to give you a couple of potions to for the damage to your shoulder, a blood replenishing potion and a sleeping draught. You need to rest for a little while. Once the potions have worn off, I'll just check you over one more time, but I think you'll be able to leave. There was no lasting damage, no thanks to you."

"Thank you Poppy. I appreciate it." And Harry meant it. He had spent many hours in Poppy's care when he was younger and none of the medi-witches and wizards he had met since he left Hogwarts had ever made him feel as thoroughly well looked after as she did. She left, but returned shortly with a shirt for Harry to wear, since his other couldn't be worn and an arm full of potions. _Oh boy, does this bring back memories. I've been down this road before. _He accepted the shirt gratefully but protested about the taste of the potions, more out of habit than anything else. Poppy left, shaking her head in mild exasperation.

"The man gets shot, tears God knows how many ligaments, has a graze on his lung, bleeds all over my floor, but it's the sodding  _potions _that bother him. I give up!" 

"Thanks Poppy!" Harry called after her, as the sleeping draught started to work its magic on him.

***

"Tell me everything," said Albus quietly to the members of the Order as he approached them in the hospital wing. Albus found them sitting in their beds talking quietly among themselves. None of them would take their sleeping draughts until evening, because they knew they would need it to get them through the night. 

It took Minerva the better part of three quarters of an hour to explain what happened.  But Minerva wasn't aware of _everything_ that had transpired and so she was unable to inform Albus that, in the midst of the confusion and smoke, two wizards had apparated into the pharmacy and rescued the blond man that had threatened Theresa.

"Where did he get the knife from?" asked Albus, curiously. "Was it his?"

Ron shrugged helplessly. "I've got no idea. It _might_ be his." 

"Why did he throw a knife when – " Albus began to ask. 

"I don't know," Ron repeated. "I was watching the blond fellow. He looked like he was trying to grab Theresa…I wasn't just standing there doing nothing, Albus. I tried to help, but I couldn't get my wand out. The people I was hiding with just latched onto me and I couldn't shake them…I think it was because I made the mistake of telling them not to worry and that they'd be fine as long as they kept low. They must have thought I was the walking paragon of wisdom after that because about five of them clung onto me…."Ron trailed off, looking embarrassed that he wasn't able to do anything to help.

"It was the same with all of us, Albus. We were trying to help the people we were with and they just...sort of…clung on," Hermione offered. "We really were stuck."

"I'm sorry. If you had let me finish, I was going to ask you why he threw a _knife _when he could have thrown a _spell_? He _is _a wizard, after all."

After a short pause, Ginny spoke. "Maybe he didn't want to expose himself as a wizard."

"Was there really enough time to be thinking of that under the circumstances?" asked Albus, with a frown.

"Well, no, but…" No one else could offer any other suggestions, so they just looked at each other.

"And, why on earth did he attack the men with a _gun_, instead of using his _wand_? I think under the circumstances, he could have been forgiven for exposing himself, couldn't he?"

"But if we were exposed, we wouldn't have been able to obliviate everyone in the pharmacy. The police arrived too quickly for that."

"That is true, but we could have worked something out."

"Perhaps," said Professor Snape, who had remained silent up until now, "he would have used magic if he had no other option, but simply didn't feel that he was pushed to that last resort. When _we _think to resolve a situation, we react in terms of magic and non-muggle methods. By his own accounts, he has spent some time in the muggle world. Perhaps, he reacts by using both muggle and wizarding methods. Albus, he reacted very quickly. Perhaps he was simply able to see an opportunity to control the situation without the use of magic because of the time he has spent with muggles." Snape offered his explanation hesitantly. He wasn't sure what to believe himself, but this was the only way he could explain Professor Green's behaviour.

"Jason told us that we were being observed, and it turned out that he was right," Ron told Albus urgently.

"Yeah, and in the pharmacy, Theresa was yelling out for Professor Green – and the blond fellow seemed really interested in that. He wanted to know who they were. I think someone's looking for one, or all of you," said Ginny, looking at her brother, her eyes widening in fear. "I don't think you should be policing London anymore. It's obviously becoming too easy to spot you all. And I don't think you'll be able to find anyone willing to continue doing that while taking these awful potions. I've got cramps in places I never knew existed," she whined. 

"Concealment spells?" offered Hermione, her eyebrows creased in thought. 

"They're too transient. They don't last long enough, and, if you know the right spell, you can see through them," said Ron quietly, shaking his head.

"I didn't mean those ones. I mean the ones that they were looking into years ago. Those ones that you're not supposed to be able to see through which you can leave on until you're ready to remove them," said Hermione quickly.

Minerva punctured whatever hope Hermione had at that point when she said, "They were never fully developed. There were too many flaws that couldn't be worked out of the spell."

"Oh," Hermione said, disappointed.

After a momentary silence, Albus addressed them all. "I think that we should wait to find out what Jason can tell us before we discuss this further. In the meantime, I will leave you all to rest while I speak to Theresa.  The group of five watched as Albus walked over to Theresa's bed. 

"Be careful you guys," said Ginny quietly, looking directly at her brother and her sister-in-law. 

*****

Harry was woken up by the sounds of voices near his bed.

"I sent you back to your rooms earlier Theresa," said Madam Pomfrey in a no-nonsense tone of voice. 

"Please, Madam Pomfrey...please.  I just wanted to see if Professor Green was awake. I really need to tell him something."

"Surely whatever you have to tell him can wait until morning."

"Well, I guess so, but, well...I – I wanted to tell him before I lost the nerve. Um, I did something to make him angry, and I really have to apologise…and, well…I just thought it might be easier if I saw him now instead of waiting for him after one of my classes," said Theresa in a shaky voice.

"Who's there? It's still dark…gotta be too early to get up, " Ron said groggily as he was awakened by the voices. 

"I'll say.  It feels like I only just now got to sleep," Draco complained. He looked over to the bed next to him and saw his wife stirring as well.

"Would you stop making so much noise, Ron?" asked Hermione, yawning widely.

"It's not me! It's them!" cried Ron, pointing at Theresa and Madam Pomfrey who were standing a short distance away from their beds.

"For Merlin's sake! Will you cease your chattering so that I may get some sleep? You're all behaving as if you're at a first year slumber party!" said Professor Snape, irritably. 

Minerva ignored the brunt of his outburst, but decided to keep her voice down all the same.  "I wonder what she could want at this time of the night." 

"Morning," Draco whispered sourly. "At this time of the _morning_. It's about 12:30 am." 

"Theresa, I have to insist that you – " began Madam Pomfrey but she was cut off. 

"It's o.k Poppy. I'm awake," Harry raised himself up into a sitting position in his bed. 

"And so are we. Thanks," muttered Ron, but only just loudly enough for his wife and his sister, who were in the beds on either side of his, to hear.

"Ssh," hissed Hermione.

"What can I do for you, Miss Chan?" asked Harry, stifling a yawn and motioning for Theresa to pull a seat up next to his bed.

Madam Pomfrey looked at both of them and shook her head before heading over to another part of the room  where she would sit and keep an eye on them, muttering something about 'stubborn professors who won't do as they're told' under her breath.

Harry grinned cheekily at her before she left, and turned back to his student who was nervously looking around the room and wringing her hands. 

"Um, sir? Um...well, I have something to tell you. But you won't like it. And, I guess that…well…I wanted to tell you while you were here so that you wouldn't be able to yell too much, being a hospital wing and all," said Theresa quickly, already cringing away from Harry.

"This should be good," Ron whispered excitedly, leaning over in his bed so that he could listen to the conversation.

"Ssh. I'm trying to listen,  Ron," whispered Ginny without shame.

"Me too," added Draco, who was trying to crane his neck as far as it would go in an effort to hear the conversation. In fact, everyone in the infirmary, including Severus – who had given up any hope of getting back to sleep any time soon – all tried to listen in on the conversation. They were all curious to know what Theresa could possibly have to say to her professor at this time of the morning.

Harry looked carefully at Theresa, who already seemed on the verge of tears. "Have you ever heard me yell at anyone?" he asked his student seriously.

"Um, well, earlier today when Madam Pomfrey woke you up just after you were brought to the hospital wing, you yelled at all of us…."

"Oh. O.k, you have a point. But, I'd just been shot and my adrenalin had kicked in when we were in trouble at the pharmacy and I hadn't really calmed down by the time I woke up in the hospital wing. And then, on top of all that, I was a little cranky that nobody listened to me when I was trying to talk to them just before I

was stunned." He'd had to stretch the truth a little bit there. He had been injured many times during the war and was still able to think and act at least semi-rationally even when he felt that he would like nothing more than to pass out from the pain and when his adrenalin was pumping so hard that he could hear his own heart beating loudly in his ears. Harry stopped and looked at his student. "Other than today, have you ever heard me yell at anyone?" he asked gently.

Theresa considered this question carefully. "No, sir. But I still think you'll yell at me," she said, edging her chair back from Harry, who sighed and just leaned back against his pillows. 

"How about if I promise not to yell at you?" asked Harry, in an effort to encourage Theresa to tell him what she needed to.

"Um. Are you sure?" she asked, cautiously.

"Yes."

"You promise?."

"I promise. Seriously. Just tell me."

"Well, you know how you were really cranky because you were stunned today?" Theresa began cautiously.

"Yes," said Harry slowly, wondering where she was going with this.

"Well…I was the one who stunned you," Theresa said, quietly.

"Did she just tell him that she stunned him?" asked Ron, who couldn't quite hear Theresa's last sentence.

"Yep," said Draco, still straining to hear.

"Oh man. He went off his nut because he thought _we _did that to him," whispered Ron, shaking his head.

"Well, he said wouldn't yell at her," offered Draco. 

"No. He'll kill her instead," whispered Ron as he tried to lean even further out of his bed.

"_You_ did that?" asked Harry, quietly, staring at Theresa.

"Sir, I was worried about you because you were hurt and there was so much blood, and you seemed to be stumbling a bit and I didn't think you should walk all the way to the castle." she explained very quickly, as if it wouldn't sound so bad that way. "And then one of the professors tried to stun you so they could carry you to the castle and you wouldn't let them, but I thought it was a good idea. I didn't want you to hurt yourself any more, and you might have if you'd tried to walk…Professor, I'm so sorry. I had no right to do that," Theresa couldn't continue because she crying so hard by now that it was impossible for her to talk.

Harry didn't say anything. To any onlooker, it might look like Harry was overreacting. After all, Theresa and the others there were only trying to help him by carrying him to the castle. No one knew that by carrying him, against his will, they were violating something very personal to him. He had made a decision a long time ago, to face everything standing up, like his father. Standing like a man, to the end. The world had taken so much from Harry but he was determined that no one would take that from him. And today, they had. But no one was aware of just what they had violated, and Harry wasn't going to tell them. He clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times, breathing deeply to calm himself down before turning to look at Theresa, who was looking down at her hands in her lap and trying to silent her tears. 

"Thank you."

"What!" gasped Ron. "He looked like he was going to _kill _us, but he _thanks _her!" 

"Shush Ron!" snapped Hermione. 

"Sometimes I'm a little too stubborn for my own good," Harry said gently. Theresa was only doing what she thought was right; and truth be told, he was quite touched that a student thought so much of him that she would want to help him,  then tell him what she had done –  even though she knew that he had been upset about it all.

Theresa looked up, surprised. "Really?"

"Really. And that was a really good hex that you threw too. You've been practicing," he said, encouragingly.

"Well, yeah, I have. Sir, I really am very sorry. I'll understand if you don't want to give me any more tuition."

"We can't stop your lessons now. You're really improving. Now tell me, were you still a bit shaky when we landed after we touched the port key?" asked Harry, lapsing into professor mode.

"Yes," Theresa replied honestly.

"So, can you tell me how you went about trying to focus your magic when you were still a bit scared?"

"I don't know, sir. I've had trouble focusing on the spells during class but I don't think I really thought about how I was going to cast the spell that time. I think I just did it…"

*****

"How come he yelled at us, but he was nice to her?" asked Ron, who was still a bit sore at having been yelled at.

"Well, I expect it's because she's a student. Would you yell at one of _your _students?" asked Hermione, wisely.

Ron thought about this and grudgingly conceded her point. "Fair enough."

"Was he giving her extra lessons as well?" asked Draco, grinning wickedly. "She's a lucky girl. Extra tuition from Professors Green _and _Snape." He looked over at the potions master who was glaring daggers at him.

"I don't get it though," continued Ron. "Why was it such a big deal? I mean, we only wanted to get him to the castle. If I'd been shot I'd be quite happy to let someone carry me around."

"I have no doubt about that, big brother," Ginny interrupted dryly.

"But, he looked ready to kill us. I just don't get it…" Ron trailed off, deep in thought.

Professor Snape looked over at Harry and Theresa, who were by now engaged in a quiet conversation about hexes and counter hexes. "He said it was a matter of pride."

"Yeah, but – "

"Pride means very different things to different people," Professor Snape offered quietly, almost speaking to himself. 

"Sometimes, it's all you have," Draco said absently, also looking at the professor who was speaking to his student.

*****

Harry woke up to find Albus sitting in the chair that had been occupied by Theresa a few hours before. 

"Good morning.  How are you feeling, Jason?"

"Fine, Headmaster.  In fact, I'll probably be joining everyone in the Hall for breakfast."

"Good, good.  I'm glad all of the excitement hasn't diminished your appetite." The humorous expression left his face at that point and he said, "But before you go, I wonder if you would mind me asking you a little about what exactly transpired yesterday.

"I assumed you would've spoken with the other Order members about that," he replied, fidgeting with his blanket and  trying to gauge how much Albus already knew.

"Yes, I have spoken with them, but there seem to be considerable gaps in their knowledge and I was hoping you'd be able to fill them in." The Headmaster sat back in the seat and clasped his hands comfortably in his lap, waiting for Harry to begin.

Harry described everything that he saw and heard for Albus because he didn't think that there was anything that they didn't need to know. Of course, he didn't tell them that he had stunned several people in the room and created a protective shell for Theresa wandlessly.  Harry had provided Albus with a lot of information that the other Order members, who were presently sleeping in their hospital beds, hadn't given him.

"I was curious when the others told me what happened last night, and now that you're awake, I'm hoping you can clear this up for me. Why did you throw a knife at the fellow?"

"He was going to grab Theresa," Harry explained. **

"Yes. But why did you throw a knife when you could have thrown a spell? I understand that you might not have wanted to expose yourself as a wizard, but under the circumstances it would have been reasonable, wouldn't it?" asked Albus as he attempted, once again, to finally get an answer to the question that had been bothering him since he had heard the other Order members give their account of the story the previous evening.

_Why am I constantly explaining my actions? If I actually had used my wand I'll bet I'd still have everyone questioning me and chewing me out for exposing myself as a wizard. Man, I just can't win, _Harry thought to himself, and heaved a great sigh before he answered.

"I was actually _going to_ throw a spell at him, Albus. I was even reaching for my wand, but when I was checking the pharmacist over to see if he was alright, I turned him over, almost all the way onto his back to see whether the bullet had gone straight through. Something in his back pocket was jabbing into him and he asked me to shift it around so that it wouldn't make him uncomfortable. It was a knife, Albus. One of those types with the flip blade. So, as I was reaching for my wand I remembered that the pharmacist had a knife on him and one of my arms was still on his back. I just reached in for it and threw it."

"I'm surprised you had enough time to do that, if the fellow was reaching for Theresa," Albus noted.

"The guy was moving slowly. Like…oh, I don't know…like a tiger stalking its prey. He just sort of moved in slow motion, so I had enough time to change my mind." Harry answered honestly, though he knew it sounded lame, even to his own ears.

"Why did you change your mind at all, Jason? Why not just continue and throw the spell?" Albus asked, curiously.

"Because it would have been a hell of a job to erase everyone's memories afterwards. I didn't know when the police would have arrived and we would've had to _find _everyone – and there were quite a few people in there – who was hiding in the pharmacy, assuming that they didn't all run out first, and erase their memories. And then, if anyone who was looking into the pharmacy from outside in the crowd had seen me throwing a spell we'd have had to track them down, and anyone they may have told, and erase their memories. We wouldn't have been able to do it before the police arrived, so I was really looking to avoid that."

Albus nodded while Harry was speaking, agreeing with his reasoning. He looked thoughtfully at Harry and said, "From what the others tell me, it was a precision throw and a great aim. I'd imagine that it would take some skill to be able to throw like that."

"I've had some military training," Harry answered smoothly. _You should know, you and your Order. You all had me sent off to be trained…I wonder if you have any idea just how well trained I really was, and still am, Albus?  _

"Ah, yes. You've spent some time with muggles," Albus reasoned to himself.

"Yes," Harry replied, deep in thought. 

"Is that the reason you dealt with the other men without magic?" asked Albus carefully.

"Same sort of reason. I would have used my wand, but no one was moving after the blond fellow who was trying to grab Theresa passed out. I saw an opportunity and I just grabbed it.  Um, unfortunately, I didn't move out of the way quickly enough. I was trying not to hurt them too badly."

"_Did _you  hurt any of them?" 

"I don't think so. I was firing the gun at the floor."

"I'm a little puzzled. Why did they all simply pass out. I would have thought they would be able to bear the sound of gunfire and the thought of bullets being fired so closely to themselves since they were doing the same thing only a short time before." Albus asked Harry, giving him a piercing look.

Harry looked straight at Albus and replied in calm and slightly puzzled tones, "I've absolutely no idea."

Both men sat in silence for a short time before Albus moved their conversation along.

"So, two men apparated into the pharmacy and dragged the blond fellow out?"

"Yes."

"Did you recognise them?"

"No. I was lying on the ground and didn't really get a good look. But I definitely heard them apparate in. The 'crack' was pretty loud." 

"Do you know if anyone, aside from yourself, saw them?"

"They apparated into one of the corners of the pharmacy. I was lying near them, so I could see them, but I don't know if anyone else saw them because they created a lot of really thick smoke when they arrived. It dissipated pretty quickly and by the time we managed to get out, it had just about filled the whole pharmacy."

"And you're sure that they referred to Professor Snape and Draco by name?"

"Yes. They said, 'Did you see Snape or Malfoy around.'"

Albus' brows creased in concern. "Did they mention why they were looking for them?"

"No. They didn't say anything more about either of them." Both the Headmaster and the professor lapsed into silence at this point. 

"I don't know Draco or Professor Snape that well, but why_ would _anyone be looking for both of them specifically?" He had a pretty good idea why they were attacked. but it still didn't make any sense.  Since Death Eaters were involved in the incident, he was quite sure that someone was looking for them because they worked as spies during the war, but the war had been over for about eight years now. If anyone was going to target them for being spies they would have done so before now. And even then, their roles as spies had been a very closely guarded secret. It would have been no mean trick to discover it. 

"I don't know," Albus muttered, still deep in thought.

_You wouldn't tell me even if you _did _know, would you? Just like old times. _ Harry thought bitterly. During the war, people had continually withheld information from him under the pretense that he didn't need to know, or that knowing might affect his ability to perform his tasks, and he'd hated it. It would have been a gesture of mutual respect to allow him to be privy to certain information, particularly since he was passing information to the Order and he was required to kill Voldemort, but this gesture was always withheld. Harry hated being treated like a child, when he was quite obviously not a child in the conventional sense of the word during the war. And he still hated it. He shifted around in his bed, grinding his teeth in frustration. 

"I wasn't trying to pry, Headmaster. I only ask because, I've been able to give you quite a bit of information and I've lent all of you my skills on a _couple _of occasions now, so I would think that it's only fair that I know whether there might be a reason I seem to be continually putting myself at risk in circumstances where people are specifically looking for Draco and/or Professor Snape," Harry said from between clenched teeth. 

Albus looked up at Harry who was fiddling with his bed sheets while he continued.  "I mean, apparently I'm a member of the Order of the Phoenix now. Draco and Professor Snape are as well. If there's something that the rest of you know that I don't then I would think that I might have earned the privilege of knowing, since I've been directly involved in these sorts of incidents twice now." Though his conscience wouldn't let him stand by and allow someone to be hurt if he could prevent it, an attack on either one of those two men felt oddly personal to him and he wanted to be able to help them. Professor Snape had saved his life on countless occasions and had turned spy for Albus at considerable risk to himself. Draco had defied his entire family and all of his friends when he had volunteered to spy for Albus, also at considerable risk to himself. Each of them carried a large part of his history with them – even if their history evoked some less than pleasant memories – and Harry would help them if he could. 

Harry stopped fiddling and looked at Albus who looked calmly back at him.

"You're right. You _have _earned that privilege. I can't tell you anything at the moment because I simply don't know. I could speculate but I would have to ask the permission of Professor Snape and Draco before I could tell you what those speculations are." 

Harry couldn't fault his reasoning, so he settled himself back against his pillows, waiting for Albus to continue. 

"Finally, how did you know that the Order members were being watched in the mall? They all said that they were unaware of this until you alerted them," Albus asked, with obvious interest.

"Well, I saw them from the pharmacy and I thought I might just head out and say 'hello' to them, and I was still looking at them and thinking about this when I saw a big beefy fellow with piggy looking eyes and no neck, walk right past the group, behind them all. He nodded right at them as well. I think he was looking at someone else when he did this because it looked like he was trying to point them out. It looked out of place so I had a bit of a look around to see who he was looking at and I noticed that there were a heck of a lot of people sitting down reading magazines and newspapers and just sort of glancing up at them every now and then. I didn't notice anything myself, up until that point.

"And you told them to come back to Hogwarts?" asked Albus.

"Yes. They'd been recognised, and too many people were watching them for it to have been a friendly sort of recognition. I just suggested that they come back here and let you know that someone was looking for them and that they'd been spotted. I didn't know that they weren't going to listen to me, or that they could change their appearance the way they did."

"Hmm…Yes, they _can _be quite stubborn when they all put their minds to it," Albus agreed, good-naturedly.

"Who's stubborn then?" asked Ron, stirring in his bed and rubbing his eyes groggily with one of his hands.

"Good. You're all awake," Albus cheerfully addressed the others. A couple of them were awake and were waking the others. 

"You know I don't sleep well when someone's talking about me, Albus," Draco said teasingly as he gently woke his wife.

"I'm surprised you get any sleep at all then," Ron  muttered just under Draco's radar.

"I hope that you'll all join me for breakfast this morning," Albus said as he swept past them, looking for Madam Pomfrey. He joined them a moment later with the medi-witch by his side. "Severus, Draco, I'd like to see you both in my office after breakfast." 

The two men looked at one another. The look that Albus was directing both of them was serious and they silently nodded their agreement that they would be there. 

Albus looked back over at Harry and nodded once to him before he left. Harry didn't notice though. He was too busy looking at Draco and Professor Snape. The two men had followed Albus' gaze back to Harry and were silently looking at him, puzzlement and confusion evident in their eyes, while Harry's reflected only the concern he felt for both of them. He was the first to break the eye contact and he looked over at one of the bare walls on the other side of the hospital, deep in thought.   

*****

Madam Pomfrey sent the others on their way to breakfast before she turned her attention to Harry. 

"And I don't want you to strain yourself. I've done as much as I can, but your body really does need time to adjust after the damage and repairs that have been done to it. A couple of days of light tasks are just what you need," she told him sternly before leaning closer to him and pointing her wand right at his newly healed chest. "If I find out that you've been exerting yourself,  you'll answer to me, young man. Now off to breakfast with you." 

Harry grinned at the way she could make him feel like a little boy, even after all these years. "Would I do something that would make you unhappy, Poppy?" he asked with exaggerated innocence. The medi-witch stared at him and then laughed. "Go on with you then." she said, pushing him out of the door with her wand. 

He turned around and called out to her, "Thanks  Poppy! You're the best!" The medi-witch watched him leave with a smile, and then put her hands in her face and groaned when he tripped over his own two feet half way down the corridor.

"It's alright Poppy. I'm o.k. Nothing to see here," he called out to her as he winced slightly, picked himself up off the floor and dusted off his clothes. "How can he be the same man who did all of those things in the pharmacy yesterday? He's a danger to himself!" she muttered as she turned back to her hospital wing.

*****

After breakfast, the group who had were patrolling the mall the day before decided to see Albus together in his office, which gave Harry the perfect opportunity to leave the castle. He had been worried about Tony since he had left the pharmacy yesterday. Even though he had no doubts that the police would have made sure that he had received the proper medical attention, he couldn't help but be concerned. But on top of all this, he was angry that he hadn't been able to prevent Tony from being hurt and that he was only able to give him minimal assistance.

Since Draco and Ginny and the professors were in a conference with Albus, Harry was sure that no one would be looking for him for some time. It was a simple matter to discover which hospital he'd been taken to.  He left the castle with a small bag full of things that he wanted to be able to give Tony, and apparated to a quiet road just behind the hospital, remembering to remove his concealment charms just in time before he entered the hospital. _Good grief! This double identity thing is hard to keep a track of sometimes! _

Tony was in a private room, sitting up in bed and watching the television.

"Aren't you too old for cartoons?" he asked his friend from the doorway.

"No way. You're never too old for this. This is quality television right here…come on in," he said motioning for Harry to come inside.

Harry entered the room and pulled up a seat beside the bed. "First of all, how are you feeling? And don't lie to me. I don't want to hear what you're telling the nurses. I want to hear how you're really doing," Harry said seriously.

Tony looked at his friend for a moment before he said, "I'm doing o.k. Really. I mean, I've been better. Much better, but it's not too bad."

"You were shot. How can that not be too bad?" Harry asked in amusement. 

"Well, it was a clean shot. In and out. No shards or anything left behind, and I had a transfusion yesterday so I'm not in any real danger anymore. The doctors are supposed to be coming in to do a blood count and check to see whether I need another one. They said that I might be able to get away with not having one, but it'll all depend…How did you know I was here, anyway?" asked Tony. "I was pretty groggy yesterday, but I don't remember telling them to call you."

"I saw the news report about what happened at the mall and called you to see if you were o.k. You didn't pick up all night so I just started ringing the hospitals and I found you here,"  Harry lied.

Tony blinked up at his friend. "Wow Jason. I honestly wish I were gay right now and that you were my boyfriend, just so I could come home to someone who'd look after me like that every day. Thanks, buddy."

"Any time. Now. I have a few things for you," Harry told him, opening up his bag and getting down to business. 

"Oh no," Tony groaned. The last time his friend had visited him in hospital, he had brought a good supply of McDonalds food with him, because he was convinced that the hospital wouldn't serve decent food to him. Needless to say, he had been in a lot of trouble from the staff when they discovered this. 

"It's not more fast food is it, because the last time you brought that stuff into the hospital, I got into so much trouble…"

"No, I haven't got any food in here, though I really should have brought something. It's just not right that you should have to eat that garbage that they call 'food'. Reconstituted eggs are not 'food', my friend. In any case, I've got something else for you. Behold," he said with a grand gesture as he brought several vials of potions out of his bag. 

Tony's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Bloody hell! Jason, what _is _that stuff. This is a hospital! You can't bring that sort of stuff in here. How did you even manage to get past the front desk? Hang on, it's not drugs is it?" He asked nervously. 

"No! It's not drugs! What kind of person do you think I am?" Harry asked, slightly offended that his friend would think such a thing.

Tony blinked. "A pharmacologist?

"Oh, yeah. Well – anyway, this is some of that 'alternative therapy' that I was talking to you about before," Harry told his friend, by way of explanation.__

"Jason," Tony began, disapprovingly, "You know that this fine establishment is called a hospital, right? And in a hospital, there is a good supply of medication. And the doctors don't take too kindly to people who self-medicate with alternative therapy…concoctions." __

"Trust me, buddy. This'll help. It really will. I promise. Have I ever let you down before?" Harry asked. "Look. I'm not going to ask you to have all of them. I just brought them because I didn't know how you were feeling today. We'll just try a few. Just a few. You'll only have to take them once and then never again. I promise. And the doctors won't know. I swear," Harry pleaded with his friend in earnest. _C'mon Tony. Let me help. I feel bad enough as it is,_ Harry silently begged his friend.__

"…Alright." Tony relented.__

"Excellent. Now, just take this one first. It's just going to help your blood count," Harry explained to Tony as he gave him the blood replenishing potion. "Hopefully, you won't need a second operation." Tony had had transfusions before and he had picked up nasty infections on a few occasions. __

Tony drank it and handed the empty glass back to Harry. "I'm glad that it didn't taste as bad as it looked." __

"No, it's got some glucose in it, so it shouldn't taste that bad," Harry told his friend. During his spare hours he had brewed himself a supply of the more common potions.  Professor Snape customarily brewed the potions for the hospital wing, but unlike the potions master, Harry had included ingredients to try and improve the flavour of the potions. A large part of his younger years had been spent in the hospital wing and he still vividly recalled the…lasting…flavours of the potions that he had taken there. "Right, now this one's just a general pain reliever. I know you're being given tablets for that, but – unlike the tablets – this won't make you feel nauseous or dizzy." __

Tony tipped the contents of the glass down his throat and wordlessly handed the glass back to Harry who just as quickly replaced it with another glass. "This one is very important. It'll stimulate muscle and tissue regrowth and regeneration," he told his friend, who drank the potion. __

"Ick. That one was really bitter," He told him, wiping his mouth with his shirt sleeve.__

"Good grief. How old are you? Three? You're a grown man. You shouldn't be complaining about the taste." _Hang on a second, I don't think I'm in a position to be able to say anything. I complain about the taste _all_ the time!_

"So, what on earth happened?  How did you end up getting shot?" Harry asked, more out of politeness than anything else. It would have looked strange if he didn't ask about what happened to his friend. He listened patiently while Tony explained his own, if slightly inaccurate, version of the events that occurred at the pharmacy. __

"Geez, I thought that if you ever managed to get shot, it'd be because of your big mouth, not because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time." Tony laughed easily at the friendly joke at his expense. __

"Yeah, go figure," Tony replied, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through his shoulder when he laughed. "So, what's new? What have you decided to do about that company? You know, that one that only wants you for 'just one thing'," Tony asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.__

"Well I finally just decided to work for them…" Harry and Tony spent the rest of the morning in quiet conversation and Harry finally left his friend alone when the nurse told him, in no uncertain terms, that visiting hours didn't include lunch times and that Tony needed to be able to eat without distraction. __

"Yeah, you'll need to concentrate pretty hard to be able to keep that hospital food down. We wouldn't want anything to distract your attention away from those reconstituted eggs, would we? I might head off to the KFC down the road and pick something up there," Harry whispered to his friend as he got up from his chair and made ready to leave. Tony gave Harry a glare that would rival one of Professor Snape's before Harry quickly left the room, flashing his most charming smile at the nurse who was also glaring at him. He felt like indulging in junk food and weighed his options as he stepped outside the visitor's entrance of the hospital.__

_Hmm…KFC or McDonalds. Tough choice,_ he thought to himself with a smile as he headed off to lunch.__

*****__

Harry walked through the hallways of the castle back to his room, his greasy lunch sitting a little heavy in his stomach, considering how to spend the rest of his day; he was more than a little surprised to see Professor Snape waiting patiently at the door to his room, a heavy book in his hands. __

"Professor, what can I do for you?" Harry asked, recovering from his moment of shock.__

"Professor," greeted the Potions Master as he held out the book for Harry to see. "I've been doing some reading. I borrowed this from Mrs. Weasley, who I believe borrowed this from you. I hope you don't mind," he said in a calm and even voice.__

"Not at all," replied Harry, who recognised the book as the one he had lent Hermione. The complex purification spells that had dispelled the dark creature that had attacked Professor Snape could be found in the book. __

The Potions Master regarded Harry for a moment before he continued. "I have some…questions regarding the purification spells that I was…hoping…you could answer," the Potions Master ground out grudgingly, an odd expression on his face.  __

Having to ask Harry for help was an enormous blow to his pride. In fact, Harry thought he might need to sit down after hearing this. _Snape is asking for _help? _I'd love to see his face if he knew that he was asking Harry Potter for help. If it's anything like the look on my face right now, it'd be a laugh!_ He thought, amused.__

All things aside, the Potions Master had compromised his pride considerably in approaching Harry today. Professor Snape was a man who prided himself on the fact that he was a skilled practitioner of the Dark Arts and in defence against them; partially out of interest, but mostly out of necessity. He had been constantly honing his defence skills from the time when he volunteered to spy against Voldemort. The threat of a long and lingering death at Voldemort's hands, and the painful deaths of those he had volunteered to protect were powerful incentives to develop this talent. He was rendered helpless when he was attacked by the shadow creature. Neither he nor any of the other staff member, with the exception of Harry, knew how to defeat the creature.  And if there was one thing that Professor Snape loathed, it was feeling helpless and not in control. __

Since then, he had endeavoured to find out as much as he could about shadow creatures and the spells involved in vanquishing them, without much luck, until he borrowed the book on Dark Arts that Harry had lent to Hermione and Ginny.  But even after reading the relevant chapters he found that he still needed Professor Green's professional help.  The fact was almost more than he could bear . He, Severus Snape, was reduced to asking a young…upstart…at least twenty years his junior, and who had only just begun teaching, for…_assistance_. The sour expression on his face made Harry think that maybe he'd just swallowed a lemon. __

"I'm sorry Professor," Harry apologised for his momentary pause. "But I'm just surprised. I mean, we've never really been able to have a polite conversation, have we – not that I care, mind you.  And you've always given me the impression that you don't think I'm really qualified to teach my subject."__

"I am simply asking you a professional question – one colleague to another," Professor Snape replied. He couldn't deny the truth of what Harry was saying. None of their conversations had ever actually been civil. In fact, most of them were quite hostile. And he really _hadn't_ thought Harry was qualified to teach the subject when he had first arrived, but he had been steadily changing his mind. He had watched the professor as he tutored Theresa Chan on Christmas Day and had to grudgingly admit that the man knew his subject. He had shown unending patience and encouragement when faced with the struggling student and had taught her simple strategies to avoid being hurt by a potential enemy. Furthermore, only a fool would doubt that the man had shown considerable skill when he calmly dispelled the shadow creature that had attacked him on that same evening, and again when he took matters into his own hands in the pharmacy. Professor Snape had had to re-evaluate his professional opinion of Professor Green, but that didn't mean he was happy about having to ask him for _help_.__

Harry nodded his acknowledgment of Professor Snape's observation and began to discreetly unlock – and 'disarm' – his door before responding. "Of course, Professor."

"Excuse me, but I'd rather not have this discussion in your rooms," the Potions Master coolly stated. Harry turned to look at Snape and saw that his face was impassive and revealed nothing. It didn't matter though, because he could guess the reason for the objection.  Professor Snape was, by nature, a careful and intelligent man. He needed to be to survive as a spy among Voldemort's Death Eaters, but Harry had long since observed that Professor Snape didn't trust him– actually, most of the staff were still dubious of him – and held a suspicion that Harry had only saved his life so that he could lull him into a false sense of security for a more sinister purpose. Under those circumstances, it would make sense that Professor Snape would not want to have a discussion alone with the professor in his own suite of rooms. 

"You're right. It'd be too easy for me to try to kill you in there," Harry lightly observed. "Why don't we go to the staff room? It's a nice public room, and it would be harder for me to try anything with people around."

"I said nothing about –" Professor Snape objected, in an effort to appear civil. He had come to Harry because he wanted his help, so it wouldn't do to insult him.

"Professor, we've been through this. You don't trust me. I understand that, in fact, I don't blame you. You'd be a fool to trust someone you know so little about. Let me just put my bag away and I'll be right out," Harry said to him as he ducked into his room, threw the bag into the living room, and then ducked out again, discreetly setting the locks and spells on his door. 

The young man looked at Professor Snape. "After you, Professor," he offered as they both set off down the hallway in the direction of the staff room.

*****

The two men walked stiffly together, neither one feeling comfortable in the other's presence and when they arrived at the staff room they found only Minerva sitting by the coffee pot, preparing her notes for her classes tomorrow. She looked up when she heard the two professors enter and her eyes widened as she looked from one to the other. 

"Good afternoon…er…Severus…Jason…" she stammered, trying – unsuccessfully – to contain her surprise as the unlikely pair approached. 

Professor Snape nodded his greeting but Harry cheerfully sang out a "Hello" as he made himself a cup of coffee and followed the Potions Master to a private corner of the room, who sat down stiffly on one of the cushioned seats, placing the book on the table before him. Harry took a seat opposite him and leaned casually back in his seat, waiting for the other man to begin.

The other professor pulled the book toward him to open it up to a tagged page. He had methodically tagged several pages for ease of reference when questioning Harry, and was about to begin when he was interrupted by Minerva. 

"Forgive the interruption, but is everything alright over there? Is there something going on that I should be concerned about?" said Minerva, her voice slightly raised.

Harry had to work hard to stifle a laugh. _She's concerned about our safety! Or maybe _her _safety! We're grown men for heaven's sake!  _"Er, yes. Thank you. We're fine."

"Very well. If you don't mind the intrusion, may I ask what you two are _doing _over there?" she called out cautiously.

"We're discussing the subject matter of one of the Professor Green's books, and we would be grateful if we could _return _to it, or at the very least, _begin_,," snapped the Potions Master.

Minerva couldn't respond for a few moments. "It's just the two of you over there?"

"Yes." Harry responded good naturedly.

"And you're having a _discussion_?" she asked, her eyes narrowed at the both of them.

"Yes." Harry replied innocently. Professor Snape sent an irritable glare her way which made the Transfigurations professor reconsider asking any more questions. With another cautious glance at the two of them, she gathered up her materials and moved to a desk at the far end of the room, as far away from them as she could get while still being able to keep an eye on them. 

Professor Snape simply sniffed at Minerva's antics but Harry had to struggle not to crack a smile at the Transfigurations professor. 

"Now, Professor, I notice that in this paragraph the incantation that is used to raise the creature is printed, but in the final line of the incantation…" Harry leaned forward so he could see the book as well and the two colleagues spent a few hours deep in discussion. The young man could understand Snape's confusion. When he was studying the same subject during his training, he was also left feeling confused by the passages in the book, and his instructor had spent the better part of two days explaining the theory and research to him. Harry gave as much of these explanations as he could remember to the other man who took copious notes for his own references. 

*****

The figures robed in black kneeled in the damp, dark room before the screen which shielded their Master from view. 

"I have been informed that you failed me yesterday," the voice hissed softly and  in threatening tones.

"My Lord," one of the cowering figures responded, "one of the men in the pharmacy caught us off guard. We – "

"Silence!" the voice boomed and the room seemed to reverberate around them. "I will not accept excuses. Tell me how you came to be injured," demanded the form behind the screen, stirring in irritation.

"One of the men in the pharmacy threw a knife and – " the frightened figure responded, not daring to raise his eyes.

"You allowed yourself to be injured by a filthy muggle! You're an embarrassment not only to me, but to the entire Wizarding race." Their Master nodded to the figure who was standing to his left. The figure raised his wand and pointed it at the man who had just spoken before crying out, "Crucius!"

When the curse had run its course through the blond man's body, the screened figure spoke again.  "Let that be a lesson. I do not reward failure. Now go. I do not wish to see you any longer." The robed witches and wizards rose slightly, still bowing intermittently as they made their way out of the room.

***** 

Snape looked over his notes as Harry got up to refill his cup of coffee. He had thoroughly enjoyed the intellectual discussion he'd had with the young professor, though he'd never admit that to anyone, because he was still embarrassed that he had been reduced to asking the young professor for help. He was _almost _to admit that it was worth swallowing his pride to discuss the book with the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor because he had found him to be a well of information on the subject.  Minerva had long since left the room and they had been left alone for some time now. _Hmm…Perhaps I've underestimated him. He certainly seems well informed…perhaps a little _too _well informed. Where would someone go to learn something like this?…_Why _would someone learn something like this?…_

"Do you have any other questions, professor?" asked Harry, absently stirring his drink.

The other man looked up from his notes and looked at him. "No…Thank you…for your time." Thanking people didn't come easily for  Snape, and this was the second time he'd had to thank the young professor. 

"Don't mention it," he replied.  He picked up his cup, blowing on his coffee before taking a sip, giving the other man a questioning look when he realized that he was watching him. 

The older man leaned forward, a thoughtful, almost painful expression on his face. "Actually, I do have another question." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes?"

He paused briefly before beginning. "Why did you save me the other night? You could have easily let me die, and no one would have been the wiser. After all, no one else seemed to be able to assist, and you said yourself that you have wanted to 'wring my neck' on any number of occasions. I am curious to know why you did it." The Potions Master had been wrestling with this question since Christmas evening. He was honest with himself to admit that he had made life very difficult for the young man from the first day he arrived at the school and he had come right out and openly accused him of having a sinister purpose for being here. And herein lay the core of the problem.

Professor Green had arrived with scant background and the Ministry of Magic had no record of his existence. Add to this he is well versed in the dark arts, including the obscure teachings that date back to the medieval era and which are illegal to teach now. On top of this, he had a number of illegal texts in his possession. There was a certain stigma attached to people who were well versed in the Dark Arts. The types of people he had met in his lifetime that had such a depth of knowledge about the subject were the types of people who could not be trusted. They were moody, quiet, cunning and they were fascinated by dark magic. Voldemort was one such person., but the young professor didn't seem to be fascinated by the subject at all. He seemed knowledgeable but not…obsessed. The young man was certainly an enigma. 

This all made Professor Snape wonder why the young teacher had saved his life. Was he setting him up for something more elaborate? That's just the type of thing a dark wizard would do and he wouldn't let himself be caught. There was a reason Severus had survived for so long as a spy for the Order. He was an overly suspicious man, but that overborne sense of caution and suspicion had saved his life on more occasions than he could remember, and he had been suspicious of Professor Green since he'd arrived.  

_Bloody Hell, if he had such a problem with the whole thing he should have just told me to sod off when I pulled my wand out and I'd have left him there, if that's what he wanted. _Harry gazed into his drink, pausing before answering, "It was the right thing to do." 

"Are you sure?" the other man countered, without missing a beat.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Harry, not quite understanding the implications of the question. 

Professor Snape leaned back in his seat, his notes resting on the table before him and his fingers steepled beneath his chin. "I merely wondered if you were sure that it was the right thing to do. All things aside, professor, you don't know anything about me. For all you know, I could have been the person who raised that creature, and I could have bungled my instructions for it to attack one of the students. If that was the case, do you think you would have done the right think by saving me?"

"I don't know." Harry replied hesitantly.

"So, I ask you again, are you sure you did the right thing?" Professor Snape looked calmly at Harry, waiting for an answer.

Harry paused to think before he spoke. "If _I _had been attacked by the creature, and _you _were the only one who was in a position to be able to help, would you save me or would you let me die?"

The other man took his time to think carefully about this question. "I would save you." he finally replied.

He raised his eyebrows and looked surprised. "Oh, why? It's clear that you don't _trust _me, and, let's face it, we're not exactly on good terms with one another. Yet you'd save me anyway. Why is that, professor? Are _you _sure you'd be doing the right thing?" he asked, prompting the professor to explain himself.

"I would rather risk saving a man who wasn't worth saving, then risk letting a good man die," The Potions Master replied, looking at Harry unflinchingly. Harry returned the look and nodded once to indicate that he'd understood. 

"Exactly." Harry had subtly shifted the focus of the question. Harry knew Professor Snape as well as anyone could really know the man, and he knew that he was, essentially, a good man – albeit with terrible people skills! The problem was that "Jason" didn't know Professor Snape at all, so by letting the older man think that his actions on Christmas evening were a generic question of why one person would save another person, even if they didn't know them very well; rather than why Professor Green would save Professor Snape the irritable and sour potions master who favors his own house above all others, he had managed to ease his suspicions a little. 

There was a momentary silence as the two men thought deeply about the implications of their conversation, before Harry drained his coffee and used his wand to send the empty cup over to the sink where it was washed and put away.

"If there's nothing else I can do for you today professor – " Harry began.  

"Actually, there is…one more thing I'd…ask…of you,…if you wouldn't mind, of course," said Professor Snape haltingly, trying to swallow his pride for the _second _time that day as he rose from his seat and collected his notes and Harry's book. "Would you mind…showing me…how to perform the spell that you used to dispel the shadow creature?"

Harry groaned inwardly. _Oh man,. I've already spent three hours with Snape. Now he wants to spend even _more _time with me? I'm being punished. I know I am. This is some sort of cruel and unusual punishment. _Outwardly, he appeared nonplussed. "I wouldn't mind professor, but I have to warn you that there were actually a couple of spells involved and the sequence is quite difficult to perform. I only mention thisbecause it's getting close to dinner time, so you might want to think about doing this next weekend, when we have more time."

The Potions Master leveled a chilly gaze at the younger man. "Professor Green, I am a fully trained wizard, and not without some skill in the art of Defence. Today will be fine, if it is convenient for you."

"Fine, but we can't do this here. We'll need to go somewhere with more room. How about my classroom?" When Harry noticed the look that the other man was directing at him, he rolled his eyes and added, "And I promise I won't try to kill you while we're down there." 

The other man sniffed at Harry's sarcasm and strode out of the room toward the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom, leaving Harry to catch up with him.

*****

"Hi guys. Have you got a minute?" Ginny asked Ron and Hermione.

"We always have time for the two of you. Come on in," Hermione said as she opened the door to hers and her husband's suite of rooms to let Ginny and Draco in. Ron and Hermione were just going over their notes for their classes tomorrow. Actually, Hermione was just double checking hers because she'd had them organized for a while now. Ron, on the other hand, had left it until the end of the Christmas break to prepare for his classes and was now pushed for time. 

"Ronald Weasley, don't tell me you're _still_ leaving things until the last minute," said Ginny with a disapproving shake of her head. 

Ron didn't look up from his writing table, but he did snap irritably at her. "Yes Mum, I do, so what of it?"

Ginny seated herself next to her husband on the couch and turned to Hermione.  "I thought you would have broken him of that by now."

Hermione seated herself on one of the single arm chairs which sat off one side of the sofa. "I tried, _Merlin knows _I tried," she sighed in exasperation, throwing her hands up in the air and shaking her head. "Every time I make a suggestion he just tells me to leave him alone because he does his best work under pressure and that's the way it's always been. Anyway, what brings you both here? Not that you need an excuse to drop by though. I mean, we don't nearly see enough of you."

"Ron, could you come over here please?" asked Ginny seriously.

"Can't you see that I'm a little busy over here?" he asked, shooting a grumpy look at her. He faltered when he saw the grave expressions on her face though.

"Please Ron," Ginny pleaded. 

"Er, sure. Just a sec," he replied as he stacked his materials up on one side of his desk and put away his quill and ink before he seated himself on one end of the double couch near his wife. 

"What's up Ginny?" Ron asked, concerned at the gravity of Ginny's demeanor.

"We were actually going to be leaving this evening, but…we've had a change of plan," Draco began, looking at Ginny. 

"What sort of change of plan? What's happened?" asked Hermione, very concerned about her friends. 

"It's nothing too bad, we think." Ginny assured her quickly.

"No. Do you remember this morning that Albus told us that Jason heard two of the guys in the pharmacy asking after Severus and myself?" Draco asked, just to establish a context more than anything else.

"Of course," replied Ron quickly. 

"Well, after the meeting, Ginny and I stayed behind to talk to Albus and he agreed with me that it might be best if we were to stay here, at the school, for a while, at least until we find out more about what's going on and who's after me," Draco explained to his brother and sister-in-law.

Ron and Hermione looked at one another, and then shifted their gaze back to Ginny and Draco. They didn't say anything for a few moments, but Hermione eventually cleared her throat and said, "I agree. I mean, I've already told you that the news about people looking for you worries me and I'm glad you're taking it seriously."

"It's not so much for me." Draco rushed to explain. "I'm more worried about Ginny." He looked fondly at his wife.

"Draco…" began Ginny in her 'don't be so silly' tone of voice.

"No, Ginny. Look. I've got a pretty high profile. I mean, I run a number of companies and I'm the director of certain other companies. So, even though I'm never really in the one spot for a long time, anyone who was serious about finding me wouldn't have a hard job. I mean, I have to be at one of these places at any given time during the day.  If something happened to me and no one was keeping an eye on Ginny, she'd try to look for me, or something equally as stupid...and she could end up getting hurt – or worse. I don't want that to happen.  And, Ginny's either working alongside me or helping her Dad at the Ministry and a lot of people know this. Ginny doesn't move around as much as I do and she'd be really easy to find. I don't want anyone hurting her just to get to me," Draco explained to his brother and sister-in-law.

"Thanks Draco," Ron whispered, looking at Ginny. She was his baby sister and he couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her. 

"Don't mention it, Ron. I love her too." He picked up the hand that his wife had laid on his thigh and gently kissed the back of it. 

"So, what will you both be doing while you're here? I know you both hate to just sit around doing nothing," Hermione asked both of them, ever the practical one. 

"Well, we actually came here to offer our services to you. We were going to go around to all of the staff and offer to help them with their classes. I thought maybe we could help with the research, or grading papers or things like that, but we thought we'd ask the both of you, and Severus and Jason first," Ginny replied.

"Well, now that you mention it, I've been working on a few things for the university, and I'd be so grateful if you wouldn't mind marking some of my papers and maybe even teaching a few of my classes for me so I can just finish up the journal articles that I'm writing."

"Er, Hermione, neither of us actually studied Arithmancy," Draco said with a wild-eyed look, hoping to be able to avoid teaching one of the most boring and difficult subjects on earth.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll write everything out for you so all you'd have to do is read from the notes. It'll be easy."

"Oh.  Good." Draco choked, grinning weakly and  mentally cursing himself for offering to help Hermione.

"Meanwhile, you and I are going to go and finish the notes for your classes tomorrow," Ginny said sternly, getting up from her seat and dragging Ron over to the writing table that he was sitting at earlier.

"Wow, do you mean it Ginny? Thanks! Gosh, you know you're my favorite sister, don't you?" Ron  babbled as he let himself be dragged to the other end of the room by his sister.

"Idiot," Ginny muttered under her breath.

Draco watched his wife and his brother-in-law as they bantered with one another, thanking Merlin for blessing him and letting him marry into the most wonderful and loving family on earth. Reluctantly tearing his gaze away from his lovely wife, he said, "I need to find Jason, so I'm going to head off guys, but I'll see you at dinner."

"Bye dear," called Ginny from the writing table, where she was standing over her brother, helping him with his work. 

"We'll see you at dinner," said  Hermione as she accompanied him to the door.

*****

"I _did _tell you that this wouldn't be easy," reminded Harry as Professor Snape tried but failed once again to cast the complicated purification spells. The Potions Master had been trying, under the supervision of Harry, for the last two hours to perform these spells and had been growing steadily more irritable and cranky as each effort had been met with failure. "We could just call the lesson over and pick this up again when... " Harry began to suggest. He quieted himself when the other man threw a particularly venomous look at him. With an infuriated sigh Harry said, "I only suggested it because using your magic non-stop for a couple of hours without rest is going to tire _anyone _out.  That's all."

"I am fine to continue. What am I still doing wrong? I am casting both of the spells but they are not working as they should," Professor Snape snapped as he wiped the sweat off his brow. 

"Fine then. The spells need to be cast almost simultaneously. One straight after the other. They should only be a split second apart. You said yourself that you thought I'd just used the one spell when to dispel the shadow creature, and that's the way it _should _look. Your second spell is following too slowly after your first one. You can't give the first spell even a second to take a proper hold because it's not the important spell. The second one is, but it needs the first one as a guide, or a focus point."

"I don't think that I can cast the spells any more quickly than I _have _been doing. How am I to do such a thing?" Professor Snape asked him, still breathing a little heavily from the exertion of the last couple of hours.

Harry thought about this. As with anything, it was difficult to explain exactly _how _he did something, because he just _did _it. It was a learned skill and he didn't think too closely about it. "O.K. I think you're still trying to visualize what you're doing as two separate things. Am I right?"

The Potions Master crossed his arms over his chest, wand still in hand, as he thought about the question. "I think so, yes. But I am casting two separate spells, how can they be thought of as anything else?"

"Picture very clearly in your head exactly what you want to happen, but instead of thinking of it in two distinct parts, think of what you want to happen as a single fluid motion. One motion with two movements. Two parts working to achieve one goal. Now, when you're reciting the spells, once you've finished the first spell, _don't _release it, just move straight on to reciting the second spell. When you've nearly finished reciting that spell, release your first spell. By the time you do this you should have finished the incantation for the second spell, so you can release it straight away. It should happen very quickly so you'll need to practice a bit to get your timing right."

The other man nodded, thinking about the instructions.

"Oh, but don't divide your magic between the two spells. You need to think about them as two parts of the same…I don't know…mechanism, Harry supplied.  If you think about them as one spell, your magic will respond to your intention and it'll divide its strength between the two spells." 

Professor Snape nodded, indicating that he understood the instructions, and then glared at Harry. 

"What?" he asked in annoyance. 

"Why didn't you tell me this _before_. We've been here for quite some time and this information would have been very useful earlier," Professor Snape snapped, moving back to the center of the room to begin again.

Rolling his eyes, Harry called out, "I've been saying something along those lines for the last hour and a half. If you've chosen to ignore me that's your problem."

As the other man raised his wand he called out over his shoulder, "You weren't clear in your meaning until now." 

"Whatever," Harry muttered under his breath as  Snape began practicing again.

They were disrupted by a knock on the door. "Hey, am I interrupting anything?"  Draco asked as he poked his head around the corner of the classroom door.

"No," spoke Harry at the same time as Professor Snape said "Yes." The older man glared at the younger man who just rolled his eyes and looked at Draco. 

"Are you looking for Professor Snape?" Harry asked politely.

"Actually, I was looking for _you_, but I also needed to speak to Severus." he said, coming over to stand in front of him. I have to say, that with everything I've heard and seen I didn't think I'd find you both in the same room together without outside supervision."

"Did you have a reason for being here, Draco, or were you simply looking for an excuse to exercise your juvenile wit."

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting Jason? It looks like you really were in the middle of something," Draco observed.

Before Harry could answer the question directed at him, Professor Snape addressed Draco, "Professor Green was showing me how to perform the spells he used to dispel the creature that attacked me three weeks ago."

Draco raised his eyebrows and looked at Jason.  "How's it going?"

Harry glanced at the other man who simply crossed his arms over his chest and glared in irritation. "It's going alright. The professor just needs a lot more practice. I'm sure it'll come to him."  

"Oh." Draco said, as he observed that the Potions Master looked very frustrated. "Do you think you could show me?"

"Um, sure. We'll just need to set aside a good half day though. But that'll need to wait until the next time you come to visit, right?" asked Harry.

"Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about.. Albus told us that when we were in the pharmacy yesterday, you heard someone say they were looking for Severus and myself, and I just wanted to let you know that, since that's the case, Ginny and I will be staying in the castle for a while longer. Albus and I think it'll be safer that way."

"I agree," said Harry. "But, why are they looking for the both of you, anyway?"

Draco threw a quick look at Severus who silently and almost imperceptibly shook his head, instructing him not to voice their speculations. "Er, we're not entirely positive," Draco said evasively. "In any case," he rushed on, attempting to smooth over the awkwardness of the moment, "I just wanted to let you know, and Ginny's already planning after dinner drink parties and all manner of other things that'll involve you." Draco grinned.

"Oh, well, the school term's about to start up again and I think we're all going to be– " Harry started to say, but he was interrupted by Draco.

"Yeah, that reminds me. We're not going to have much to do while we're here so we're offering ourselves up as assistants to the professors. Ginny and I wanted to ask Ron, Hermione, Severus and you whether there was anything we could do for you before we asked the other professors, though."

"I require no assistance at the moment," Professor Snape answered. "Though I may ask you to find some potion ingredients for me from time to time, if you wouldn't mind." 

"Sure thing," Draco agreed before he turned to Harry. "What about you?"

Harry had been thinking very carefully about Draco's proposal. "Actually, if you wouldn't mind, and if it isn't too much work for you, I could use a second person to help me teach my practical lessons."

"Really?" asked Draco with interest.

"Yeah. It's funny you should mention that because I've just recently been tossing over the idea of giving the students a class on duelling. I mean, most of them have started to get the hang of the hexes and counter spells they've been studying, but it'd be great if I could give them a new way to practice the spells they've been learning. And it'd be really helpful to have a second person to go around and help me correct the student's spell work during the practical lessons because the lessons aren't usually long enough for me to get to everyone and I have to extend the lesson over two classes instead of just one. Would you or Ginny mind doing that?" Harry asked.

"Not at all. In fact, I've got a keen interest in defence so I'm going to volunteer for the job before my wife can," Draco said with genuine interest. 

"Half of all my lessons are practical classes. Don't feel obligated to help me with all of them. Just help with as many as you want to." 

"I don't think I'll have too much else to do so I'd be happy to help you with as many as I can."

"Really? Well then, come to my rooms later and we'll re-plan tomorrow's classes."

"Sure. If you'll excuse me though, I'd like to have a word with Severus."

"Oh, well, I might head over to the Hall for dinner then. I'm starving! I'll see you later," he said, as he left the classroom.

Draco watched him walk  away and then turned to Professor Snape. "Why didn't you want me to tell him? That's not normally something I'd tell people either, but he's a member of the Order now, and he saved our necks yesterday, even though he might not know it. Someone was looking for us and they found us yesterday. Not only that, but Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Minerva were with us when we were being watched. What if something had happened to one of them?  If Jason hadn't warned us that we were actually being watched, who knows what might have happened."

"Regardless of what you say, this…piece of information…is not to be shared lightly," the older man hissed, looking around to make sure that nobody was nearby or able to hear them and quickly casting a strong silencing spell on the room. "He _does not need to know_, and I do not wish for you to tell him."

"I know we haven't known him for very long. In fact, you've known him longer than I have, but do you remember what he said during that meeting that we had in Albus' office just after Christmas? He said that nothing was ever as straight forward as 'good' and 'evil', that they aren't isolated concepts. He also said that sometimes good people end up doing bad things and vice versa. He _understands _things about the nature of people and about the nature of good and bad that very few people really understand, Severus," Draco argued.

"You are still naive, Draco. Perhaps he was simply repeating something he'd read in a book somewhere." Professor Snape sneered. Privately, though, he too had been affected by what Harry had said in that meeting. "Perhaps he is secretly working to gain our trust as part of a more sinister and elaborate scheme. This isn't so farfetched. You and I did the same thing during the war, if I recall."

Draco considered his former professor's words. "Maybe. But I don't think that's the case. I'm pretty good at being able to tell when someone's lying Severus, but he seemed absolutely sincere."

"Blind trust will get you killed," the professor said ominously. 

"I don't trust blindly. I wasn't going to tell him everything. I was just going to tell him that we were spies without going any further than that," Draco replied, just as serious. 

"I don't think that would be wise. We cannot know for certain what his motives and intentions are..." Professor Snape commented, but before he could say any more, Draco was already responding.

"We don't necessarily need to. He's saved your life at least once already, and he almost got himself killed helping his student in the pharmacy yesterday. He might have secrets, and he might even have a checkered past Severus, but we're not exactly in a position to be able to point fingers, are we? I mean, we're generally considered to be two of the least trustworthy people on the planet but you and I know that isn't entirely true."

The older man weighed his words and carefully said, "What you say may be true, but something does not feel…right about him. And I stand by what I said before. I do not wish for you to tell him about our former…status…or even hint around it."

Draco sighed. "Fine. I'm not so narrow-minded that I can't admit that you do have a point. In any case, it's getting late and I'm getting hungry." As Professor Snape lifted he silencing spell from the room, Draco steered the conversation to another topic. "So, you've been getting lessons in Defence Against The Dark Arts? I've read the chapters in that book that Jason lent to Hermione and Ginny and I have to say that I think I was more confused after I finished reading than I was before I started reading, and I thought there was only one spell involved, not two…."

The two men left the room, carrying Harry's book and Severus' notes between them. 

*****

"I have not called you. Why are you here?" the formless figure behind the screen inquired coldly.

"My Lord, we have broken the curses surrounding the body and arrangements are being made to move it as we speak." The man spoke excitedly as he stayed on bended knee before the screen.

His master stirred and hissed excitedly. "Excellent. Have the body moved to this room and I shall make the necessary preparations."

"At once, my Lord." 

"There is one thing that must be done before I can use the body."

"Yes, my Lord?" inquired the kneeling figure.

"Find the traitors, and kill them! They will _know_, and they will ruin my plans. I cannot have that," the Master said in cold, steely tones.

"Of course, my Lord."

"And do not fail me," hissedhis Master.

"No, my Lord," the man spoke as he bowed and left the room.

** For artwork, follow the link  on my author profile page. Please have a look at it. Well worth the tour.

Cheers!


	10. chapter 10

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of Harry Potter or any of the characters. Only the plot is my own. 

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the story.  A big thank you to my beta, **Sepia**, your efforts are greatly appreciated. J 

Thank you to **Maxwell Demon **who has lent her artistic talents to the fic.  Her pictures have been uploaded onto her website. I can't upload her website address on FFnet but her website address is on my author profile page. I'll try and think of another way to get it in here. If anyone has any suggestions…

Follow the link and then click on "Lady Assassin's" Link.  Her pictures aren't uploaded yet, but they'll be up in a couple of days so please check back then. 

Ager and Awen, if you'll leave a reply e-mail address with me, I'd love to answer your last questions and any more you might have.

CHAPTER 10

It had been a long week for Draco, and he was glad it was Friday afternoon. He had been as good as his word and had assisted Harry with his practical lessons all week. If he had to be honest, Draco had a dual motive for wanting to help Harry. First of all, he was genuinely interested in Defence and was not without skill in the subject. It only stood to reason though; he would never have survived as a spy in Voldemort's circle of Death Eaters if he was inept. Secondly, and perhaps just as importantly, by spending so much time helping Jason, he avoided having to help Hermione research for her journal articles on new developments in the field of Arithmancy, which was in his personal opinion, an unequivocal snore-inducer.

Truth be told, Draco was a little apprehensive at the idea of being in contact with the students. His family was very well known in the wizarding world – for many of the wrong reasons – and though he didn't much care what others thought about him, he didn't want some of the more vocal students creating trouble for Jason over his choice of assistants. Harry spent Monday threatening to give his students extra essays to write on the reasons why idle gossip wouldn't be tolerated inside his classroom in an effort to stop his students gossiping about Draco in his class. Needless to say the prospect of writing extra essays worked its magic on his classes almost immediately.__

The former spy's cheeky and mischievous trouble-making ways had already managed to overcome some of the students' hostility though. In actuality, he enjoyed putting Harry through his paces as much as he was actually assisting him during his lessons. Just yesterday, he and Harry were giving the students a visual demonstration of a wizard's duel. Since they were both so skilled, they both quickly tired of simply throwing curses and defending them in the usual way, to make things interesting they began to incorporate wild and outlandish styles of spell casting and defence eventually managing to hit each other with cheering charms. 

However, in their enthusiasm, they put too much magic into their cheering charms and were in fits of laughter for more than half an hour, and due to its contagious nature, sent the students into fits of hysterical laughter as well. Many of the students became more friendly after that. After all, someone who could throw a highly charged cheering charm while making loud chicken noises to throw their opponent off couldn't be that bad, could they?

On another occasion, Harry and Draco were preparing to demonstrate to sixth year class how to throw and defend against a particularly nasty variation of the stinging hex.

"So when I say 'go', Mr. Malfoy will throw the hex and I'll defend against it. It's going to happen fairly quickly, so watch carefully after I say 'go' – hey!" cried Harry as he saw the hex go zinging past his arm. "What was that for?" he asked Draco, who was trying to suppress a grin. 

Draco had taken advantage of the situation to lighten the mood a little. Harry had been explaining what was going to happen for the last fifteen minutes and the former spy saw that some of the students were beginning to get a glazed eyed look about them. Though he had observed that Harry was an excellent and thorough teacher who definitely knew his subject, he sometimes tended to be a little over cautious and explain things perhaps one time too many. He saw a golden opportunity for a little mischief and took full advantage of it, throwing his hex unexpectedly at Harry, and deliberately aiming to miss. 

"What do you mean?" he asked, wide eyed and feigning innocence. "I was only doing what you told me to do."

"I didn't ask you to try and hit me while my back was turned," Harry cried in mock outrage, having caught the amused expression on Draco's face.

"You said that I should throw the hex when you said 'go', and you did say 'go'."

"I didn't mean for you to throw it _then_."

"But you _said_ 'go'." 

"But I didn't mean it for you to hex me that time."

"How am I supposed to know whether you mean it or not?" Draco cried, now grinning openly and waving his arms around in the air in mock exasperation.

"_They _knew I didn't mean it, so there isn't any reason _you _shouldn't have known as well," Harry said as he   pointed to his students, who were following this exchange with more than a little amusement. Some of them were trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh. 

Draco turned to the class and asked, "He said 'go', didn't he?"

One of the students bravely volunteered. "Er, professor, I have to say, you _did_." This turned out to be the undoing of them all and laughter bounced off the walls of the room. 

Harry's last class of the day was about to end and he stood next to Harry, helping to arrange the furniture back into its proper place in the room. 

"Did you read the paper this morning?" Draco asked as he idly directed a desk to right itself and fly into its allocated spot in the room.

"No, I missed breakfast," Harry replied. 

"Apparently, those muggles that started shooting everything in sight in the pharmacy last Saturday have told everyone that they were put under some sort of spell and made to do it. They mustn't have been obliviated by anyone and now all the muggles think it's a great joke but the Ministry has had to round them all up and erase their memories. Apparently, they'd all been put into some an 'asylum' for their own protection and that made it easy for the Ministry to find them all."

"I guess that's ruined it for whoever was making them do it. Is the Ministry doing anything about it yet?" Harry asked, watching his students taking their seats again.

"Well, their official comment is that they're looking into it, but knowing Minister Fudge, he'll just sweep the problem under the carpet and hope it'll go away." 

"They'd have to realise that this is important though. It's been a while since wizards have been doing things like this, hasn't it?" Harry replied, eyes creased in genuine concern. _Surely even that dough-brained tub of lard can see that if he doesn't get to the bottom of it, it could turn into something big! Then again, maybe I'm giving that fellow too much credit. All paunch and no brains, that one._

"The Ministry's funny like that," Draco commented offhand. 

"Yeah, they must be. Oh incidentally, thanks a lot for helping this week. The students learn so much faster when there's two of us to help them with their spell work and not just one of us."

"No worries. I'm enjoying it, and you're really doing me a favour keeping me busy while I'm here."

Harry turned to dismiss his class. "Right, for homework, I want you to write an essay on the strengths and weaknesses of that spell. I want you to particularly concentrate on how you can exploit its strengths as the castor of the spell, and how you can exploit its weaknesses as the target of the spell. That's all for today. Enjoy your weekend." 

"You give that essay topic out a lot, don't you?" Draco observed as the class filed out of the room.

"Yeah, just about every time they learn a new spell. I think if they can understand the strengths and weaknesses of any particular spell then they'll cast it and defend against it more effectively. Well, that's how I was taught, anyway." Harry replied as he gathered his notes together. "So how's Ginny keeping herself busy?" Harry asked as he and Draco left the classroom.

*****

Harry had spent much of his free time engaged in research on what ingredients he could use to make a muggle preventative medication for Theresa that would be completely effective, like its potion counterpart. He had learned that it was the tonga tree root which made the potion completely effective, so he had been testing different muggle chemical compounds alongside the tree roots hoping to stumble onto one, or a few, that had comparative properties, so far without success.

He had set up another controlled test this morning and was hoping for better results. After his final class of the week, he arranged to meet up with Draco on the weekend to plan their next set of classes and quickly returned to his rooms to check on the results, but was disappointed and annoyed that he had come up against another brick wall.

Once he'd angrily tipped the contents of the vial down the sink, he removed his contacts and sat down at the desk in his study, rubbing his eyes in frustration and tiredness and reaching for his eye drops. He normally wore lenses he could wear for days on end and then toss, but he'd pushed the limits; it was almost going on a week and-a-half, and now he was suffering the consequences. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy and his eye drops were the only thing that gave him any sort of relief.

He had found all of his chemistry and biomedicine text books in one of his trunks and stacked them all on his desk so he could have them close at hand while he worked on Theresa's medication. Sighing loudly, he  picked up one of the particularly thick ones, thumping it down on the desk in front of him and turning to the chapter which he hoped would be useful. _Right, let's see if _this _works._

*****

A fortnight later, Harry still hadn't met with any success in his research. Madam Pomfrey had approached Harry discreetly the previous evening, and let him know that Theresa had had an episode during the day. It wasn't quite so bad as the ones she had experienced before she began taking the medication and she was able to make it to the infirmary before it set in properly. She informed him that she would need to see the doctor on the weekend and Harry assured the medi-witch that he would go with her again.

Annoyed that he was still hitting a brick wall regarding his experiments and research into Theresa's problem, he threw the vial he was holding at the sink and felt a small surge of satisfaction at his outburst, however childish it may have been. He had been through all of his textbooks and they had proven to be useless. _Maybe I'm too used to thinking like a muggle. Maybe I should be looking for a potions ingredient that can be used in place of __tonga__ tree roots. Hmm…Maybe I should have thought of that in the first place._ He silently berated himself as he removed his teaching robes and headed out to the library.

A new library assistant greeted him and helpfully pointed out where the Potions textbooks were kept. Despite his protests that he already knew how to use the library, she gave him directions on how to use the cataloguing and book retrieval system and emphasised certain rules. 

"The 'accio' spell belongs _outside _the library – it isn't to be used _inside _under any circumstances.  It's far too dangerous."

"I can imagine." Harry nodded, trying not to laugh as he imagined unsuspecting students being hit across the side of the head by flying books.

She then returned to her desk and left Harry to work in peace. He found a large table in the Potions section and started to read.

"What's a nice professor like _you _doing in a place like _this_?" queried Draco impishly some time later as he and Professor Snape rounded the corner to find Harry buried under a tower of thick books and thoroughly absorbed in three large tomes at once. Draco's sudden intrusion startled Harry, whose head snapped up and hand automatically reached for his wand. He visibly relaxed once he realised who it was.

"Bloody hell! Don't do that! You scared the heck out of me!" cried Harry.

"So, you didn't answer my question, what _is _a nice professor like you doing in a place like _this?_"

"What, you mean a library? Where professors go to increase the wealth of their knowledge which they're paid to pass onto their students? _That_ sort of place?" Harry replied in jest, rubbing his tired eyes and blinking a few times to try and bring everything back into focus.

"Yeah. Some of the worst days of my life were spent in a library. No good can come from places like these. They encourage bad habits," Draco observed sagely. "But now that we've found you, we have a message for you."

"A message? From who?"

"Our esteemed Headmaster would like to invite you to a…gathering tomorrow evening in his office. There are some matters that need to be discussed." Draco looked meaningfully at Harry as he passed the message on. Harry, for his part, looked a little confused and annoyed. _What now? I can't bloody _move _in this place without being hauled up there to be interrogated._

"What _matters_? What have I done _this _time?" asked Harry slamming his book closed and throwing his hands up in the air.

"Ssh!" the young librarian rebuked them from where she was seated at her desk. 

Professor Snape raised his eyebrows at Harry's outburst. "_Have _you done something? If you haven't, then there isn't any need to be concerned," he observed with a sneer.

Harry glared at the Potions Master, who seemed to be completely unaffected it. "It doesn't matter if I have or haven't, every time I so much as _twitch _around here I'm brought in for an accounting, _as you well know._" Harry's glare spoke volumes. Of course the older professor knew this, most of the time _he _was the one firing questions at Harry in the headmaster's office, trying to prove that he was untrustworthy and should be thrown out of the school.

"These _matters_ cannot be discussed…here," Professor Snape pointed out mildly, casting a discreet glance around the library. 

Harry understood immediately – Albus was calling a meeting of the Order. "Of course," he agreed, nodding to show that he understood and trying to stifle a yawn at the same time, but failing abysmally. "Excuse me. It must be later than I thought."

"I'll say, except for the librarian, we're the only ones in here. We tried looking for you in your rooms but you weren't there so we were going to look for you tomorrow and talk to you then. It was only by luck that we found you here. Severus wanted to have a quick look at something before his class tomorrow so we ducked in," explained Draco as Professor Snape began to look through the shelves near him. 

"Speaking of which, what _are_ you doing in here?" Draco asked, moving closer so he could look at the books in front of Harry.

"I'm just…researching," Harry replied as he rose from his desk and began closing the books in front of him, carefully making a note of book names and page numbers in the notebooks he had brought with him. "But I'm going to call it a night. It's getting late and I don't think I could read anymore anyway."

"Um, correct me if I'm wrong – and I certainly hope I'm not, because if I am, it means I've been walking around with my eyes closed for the last three weeks – but you teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, right?" Draco enquired, sitting on the desk that Harry was tidying up and idly flipping through the pages of one of the books.

"What do you think you've been helping me with for the last three weeks?" Harry replied wryly.

"I just thought I'd check because these," Draco paused to gesture at the books before him "are _Potions_ texts. And they don't look like they're talking about defensive potions either. You must really have an interest in the subject to want to read so much on it."

Snape stopped scanning the shelves and turned his attention to the two younger men who were only a short distance from him.  "Perhaps you have the book I'm looking for," he noted, moving toward the pile of books in front of Harry and sifting through them. "Ah, yes. Here it is. May I?" he asked, pointing at the book. 

"Yes, by all means. I'm all done here," Harry said, still trying to gather his notebooks together and jot down some last minute things. 

"I am also curious to know why you were reading so extensively on the subject," Professor Snape noted casually, looking through the book he had picked up off the desk. 

 "Are you now?" Harry tossed out casually as he tried to return some of the books to the appropriate shelves around him. 

This caused both Draco and Professor Snape to look up in surprise. 

"Of course, your business is your own," Professor Snape noted after a short pause, as he continued to calmly look through the text he was holding. 

Harry sighed as he returned to the table to pick up another arm load of books. "Look, to answer your question Draco, yes I guess potions work _is _sort of a hobby of mine. I enjoy it very much, which isn't too hard to believe when you remember that I'm a pharmacologist, which is sort of the muggle equivalent of being a Potions Master. But I wasn't reading for enjoyment this evening. I was looking for something specific."

"Did you find it?" Draco enquired absently, picking up a few books and looking for their places on the shelves as well. 

"No. I didn't."

The only sounds that could be heard for a short time were the sound of Harry and Draco re-shelving books and Professor Snape flipping pages in the book he was reading. The silence was broken by the Potions Master. "What were you looking for?"

Harry stopped what he was doing and turned to face the older man. "Excuse me?"

"I simply asked what you were looking for. I _am_, after all, a Potions Master, so I may be able to point you in the direction of more helpful texts."

Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he contemplated this innocent offer to help, such as it was. "How much do you know about tonga tree roots?" Harry asked the professor.

"It is a commonly used potions ingredient in both its crushed and liquified states. I cannot give you a more specific answer unless you give me more information." 

Harry thought about how much information he really wanted to give the other man about the circumstances surrounding Theresa's illness. "Are you aware that Theresa Chan has epilepsy?" he tentatively asked. He decided he'd find out how much the professor already knew about it and go from there.

"Yes. I understand that she cannot take the potion that is used to control the illness and that you are providing her with muggle medication." 

"Well, something like that. Theresa is allergic to Tonga tree roots. Poppy told me that she'd never seen or heard of a case of someone being allergic to the roots. Anyway, I thought that if there were documented cases on this sort of allergy maybe they could name a potion that they could take to get around it or something like that. It turns out that there _are _no documented cases, so I'm completely on my own with this one. When you found me in here earlier, I was trying to find a potion ingredient with comparable properties that I could substitute in place of the Tonga tree roots in the potion…and as I said, I couldn't find anything."

Draco had stopped what he was doing and was leaning against one of the shelves, listening to the conversation. "Now, don't take this the wrong way,  but…why are you going all out for Theresa? I mean," Draco quickly rushed on before Harry could say anything, "I'm not saying that you _shouldn't_, but look at it this way and then explain it to me. You said yourself that you couldn't find any documented cases like Theresa's and that it's been difficult to think of a way to get around her allergy. Hermione explained everything to Ginny and I last Saturday so I understand that the muggle medication that's available will be _nearly _as effective as the potion. Lots of muggles live with the illness every day and they're doing just fine on the same preventative medication that Theresa's taking. They're fine with it, so she'll be all right as well. So…why are you spending so much time doing _this_?" he asked, with a vague gesture toward Harry's desk, and the textbooks they were re-shelving.

Harry said nothing at this. He just picked up the last stack of books on the desk and started to re-shelve them. "Did Professor Snape put you up to asking me this, or is this one of your own questions?"

"Severus had nothing to do with this question. It's my own curiosity speaking." 

"So, are you going anywhere with your question, or do I have to guess what your point is?" he asked quietly without looking at either of the other two men.

"Well, you're doing all of this for just _one _student. I'm sure the other students have their problems too…"

Harry turned to face him. "And? 

"To me – and bear in mind that I'm an uninformed observer here – it looks like you're showing…favourable attention to one of your young female students," Draco said bluntly.

"Is that so?" Harry asked calmly.

"I just…I can see that she's a very pretty girl, and from what I've seen, she certainly seems to _like _you. Just let me know, one way or the other." Draco said, genuinely. "Er, ignore Severus for a minute. I'm sure he wouldn't mind closing his ears." 

Severus snorted into his text as he kept his eyes focused squarely on the page in front of him.

"My relationship with Theresa is strictly professional." 

Draco looked like he was struggling to believe this. 

"Alright," Harry began, "when I found her that night, she was in the middle of one of her…seizures. Have you ever seen someone in the middle of a convulsion?" 

Draco shook his head, but the Potions Master gave no response.

"She was really hurting herself, hitting herself on the stone and biting her tongue. I wanted to help but I couldn't do anything until she settled down. And then, when she _had _calmed down, she was covered in bruises and she was bleeding.  It looked horrible…I wouldn't wish that on _anyone_, let alone a young girl. There's a potion that can _completely control _the illness and prevent the onset of seizures and, after seeing what I saw, I don't want Theresa, or anyone else for that matter, to miss out if they don't have to. I don't believe for a second that Theresa's case is the only one of its kind. I'll bet there are other people who have the same problem but who won't say anything."

"I get your point, but think about this for a second. In the grand scheme of things, this is such a small thing. Why are you losing sleep over it? I'm not suggesting anything, I'm just curious." Draco asked cautiously.

"Not everything we do has to be earth shattering, does it? All big things are made up of little things, and, to me at least, it's the little things that count. In any case, I happen to _like _doing things like this. When I was at university, I used to belong to a student research group and we'd conduct experiments and research to try to find ways of helping people who couldn't be assisted by the medication available at the time." 

Severus looked up from his book, a curious expression on his face.

"Besides, Poppy let me know just last night that Theresa had another episode. It wasn't too bad and she managed to get to the infirmary before it set in. I'll be going with her to the muggle Doctor again this weekend. It's all experimentation until she finds a medication and a dosage that suits her…_if _she ever does. Not everybody benefits from taking preventative medicines,"  Harry said matter of factly. 

Draco looked at Harry for a moment before moving over and taking some of the books from him so that he could re-shelve them. "I'm sorry I suggested anything improper. I've already volunteered to be your academic assistant, so if I can do anything to help, I will.  Even if it means spending time in a…library," he finished, his face screwed up in mock distaste at the thought of seeing so much of the library.

"Thanks, but you really don't have to…"

"It's alright. I want to. Besides, I've already told you that I want to keep busy while I'm here at the castle – busy enough that I won't have time to help Hermione research anything to do with Arithmancy," Draco said with a shudder.

Professor Snape chose this time to interrupt. "There is a…clandestine…organisation that develops and tests experimental potions, in a similar way I'd imagine as your university research group. I'll contact them and see if they can shed some light on the subject."

"I've never heard of that group," Draco observed.

Severus sneered. "That's why it's a _clandestine_ group."

Harry had stopped when the Potions Master mentioned the secret organisation. "What other sorts of things do they do?"

"They are mainly involved in research and experimentation, however, some of their methods have not been…'approved' by the Ministry and that's why they remain a clandestine group."

"How did you come across the group? Were you ever a part of it?" Harry asked, genuinely interested.

"I was at one time," Severus said, shifting uncomfortably. "But I no longer have the time for it. I keep in contact with their members though. Their research is very useful."

"It sounds that way," Harry agreed. 

"To my knowledge though," Professor Snape said, bringing their conversation back to the topic at hand, "Tonga tree roots are quite unique in their properties. As I said they are a very commonly used potions ingredient, and this is because they have so many properties. The interaction of so many properties in the one ingredient has a very unique effect in potions…. Let me think on it." Snape looked as though he was deep in thought, contemplating the problem at hand. If the truth was to be known though, he was actually considering the conversation that had just passed between Draco and Harry. 

_Why is he doing so much for _one _person?_ _Why is he really doing this? _He had seen Harry and Theresa together on a few occasions and each time, he could observe no improper conduct from either person. He had also spent many evenings alone with Theresa tutoring her in potions and could observe nothing from her but a shyness and an eagerness to learn and to succeed. For his own part, if he had come upon Theresa as Harry had, he was sure he would have helped her to find the best potion…or medication…available to treat her disease, but he wasn't sure that he would have looked into developing a whole new potion for her to be able to take when a suitable muggle preventative was available to her. 

He had to admit though, his professional curiosity had been piqued, and he was now genuinely curious to know whether there was a potion ingredient in existence that _could _substitute for the tonga tree root. He was so deep in thought that Draco had to clap his hands a few times in front of his face to get his attention and let him know that if he was finished looking through the book he was holding that he was ready to call it a night as well. 

Harry bid them a good night and left to find his own rooms. _Am I hearing things or did Snape just offer to do something helpful? Maybe he just felt professionally insulted because I was researching _his _subject._ Harry rolled his eyes at the childishness of such an implication, chuckling at the idea of the formidable Potions Master having a tempter tantrum over something so insignificant.

*****

Harry entered the Great Hall the next day for breakfast to find a large group of newspaper and magazine reporters and various official looking witches and wizards scattered in small groups about the Hall. The staff were shooting him furtive glances and many of the students were glancing at him out of the corner of their eye. Students tended to breakfast late on the weekends and only about half of them were trying to eat breakfast at this time. Taking his usual seat at the table, Jason turned to Ron and Hermione and asked what was happening. 

"Jason, you might not want to be here right now...but I just want you to know that Ron and I don't believe a word of it," Hermione told him in a very quiet whisper.

Harry was puzzled. "Don't believe a word of _what_?" he asked, as he idly picked up the newspaper and scanned the front page. Hermione moved his hand away and hurriedly turned to page three.

"What – " he started to ask Hermione but she cut him off, glancing at the journalists. 

"Just read all of it."

Page three of the _Daily Prophet_ carried a full page story titled "What Education Is Hogwarts Offering?" Harry clenched his jaw as he read the story which reported that he had abused his position of trust as a Hogwarts Professor and seduced Theresa Chan, a girl of only fourteen years. The article went on to report that he was a man of scant background and that the Headmaster had allowed him a position of trust in spite of all this.

"None of them know who you are. They only have a name, not a picture. You're pretty new around here so not too many people can actually identify you," Hermione whispered urgently. "So don't draw any attention to yourself."

"Hermione, all the students and staff in the _room _can identify me. Who wrote this drivel?!" Harry asked her, in chilly tones.

"But no one's pointing you out. Look," Ron noted.  He was right, in fact, it looked like people were trying very hard not to look at him at all, for fear of accidentally identifying him to the journalists.

"I would ask that you all move back to the room in the next corridor and we will join you shortly," Albus told the group of journalists in a loud voice, rising from his seat and trying to usher the journalists out of the Hall.  "I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist."

"We have a right to know who he is!" cried one of the reporters

"You will be able to meet him in a short time, now leave my students and staff to finish their breakfast," the Headmaster instructed the journalists, raising his voice slightly. Most of the journalists began to put their cameras and quills away and began to make their way out of the Hall. 

"I don't believe this,"  Harry muttered angrily. "This is absolute rot. Is being an unprincipled bastard who wouldn't know the truth if it slapped them a pre-requisite of being a journalist for the _Daily Prophet_?" Harry asked through clenched teeth. A small amount of his magic leaked out in response to his anger, and the newspaper in his hand started to smoulder. He noticed this and quickly put his napkin over the smouldering corner, in an attempt to smother it and stop it from lighting up. 

His own previous experiences with the journalists of the newspaper had cemented his disdain for everyone who worked in the newspaper industry forever. He hadn't met a single journalist that he'd ever liked and he had to work very hard to keep from hexing every journalist in the room. The only thing that kept him from doing just that was his recollections of what Greg would say whenever something angered or upset him. 

_"There's no point getting angry about it, it doesn't solve anything." _

Harry's jaw was beginning to ache from being clenched and unclenched. _It may not solve anything, but it makes me feel a heck of a lot better._

"Albus has already told them that it will be sorted out after breakfast. There's too many of us to fit into his office, so we'll be going to Minerva's classroom to discuss this," Hermione informed Harry.

"That's all very well and good, but I'm not the only one who's been affected by this. Look," he said, nodding his head in the direction of Theresa, who was sitting alone at the end of the Ravenclaw table, looking miserably at her breakfast and trying desperately to get rid of the three reporters who were crowded around her. 

"Oh." Ron, muttered. "Well, they'll all be-"

"PROFESSOR GREEN'S THE ONE ON THE VERY END, NEXT TO THE BRUNETTE AND THE REDHEAD!" shouted a student who had just entered Hall. Silence filled the room for about 10 full seconds before every journalist turned back to the staff table and made a beeline for Harry, all talking at once. Harry, for his part, leapt away from the staff table, pulling his wand out and surrounding himself in a ring of fire, which no one in the room was brave enough to approach. 

"He's going to set the Hall on fire!" yelled one journalist, with a worried look on her face. 

"Actually, he's not," Professor Snape said quietly to Draco, who was seated beside him.  "It's all heat and only the illusion of flames."

"How do you know that?" Draco asked, throwing a curious look at his friend.

"I asked him to show me how to perform the spells he used to dispel the shadow creature that attacked me and this was one of the spells he used. It's got a distinctive red cast to it, whereas real fire is more of an orange colour. You'll notice that there is also no smoke rising from the flames." 

"Yes, I can see that now. Tell me, did you ever get the hang of performing those spells. You were telling me that they were really difficult to perform."

"I have progressed…" the Potions Master mumbled, without looking at Draco. Both men turned their attention back to the other end of the staff table, where some of the reporters were trying to edge their way closer to the fire surrounding Harry, but before any of them could move much closer Albus rose from his seat.

"STOP!" The Headmaster rarely ever raised his voice, so when he did, everybody knew that it was an indication that his patience was rapidly reaching its limit and that it was best to do exactly as he wanted. Every head turned to face Albus who, at this moment, did not look like a good-natured and wise Headmaster. He looked like an extremely angry wizard. 

"Thank you. Despite my best efforts, it would seem that this matter will need to be dealt with at once. Students, please continue your breakfast," he commanded, looking at his students who could only nod in silence and return to the meal in front of them – or at least try to. What was happening in the Hall was far more interesting than food.

Turning his steely gaze upon the reporters, he noted, "When I left you in Minerva's classroom this morning with a promise of returning and answering all of your questions, I didn't expect that you would all be so rude that you would interrupt our breakfast and harass one of my professors and one of my students." A number of reporters could be seen squirming at the Headmaster's rebuke and looking guiltily at the floor and at each other. "There is a door on your right. You will kindly wait in the first room on the right hand side of the hallway on the other side of that door." The reporters silently obeyed Albus' command as one, each one of them staring at Harry, who was still safe within his ring of fire, as they passed him.

"I would like the two of you to join them," Albus directed at Theresa's brother, Duncan, and his fiancée, Sarah, who had arrived at the school with the journalists. 

"Of course, Headmaster," Duncan politely acquiesced. "Theresa! Come on!" he called to his sister. 

"No. It will not be necessary for Theresa to attend," Albus rebuked firmly, glancing at his student. 

"But, sir, I _want_ to go with you," she said, standing up and looking at her Headmaster in a rare display of assertiveness. 

Albus blinked in surprise. "There is no reason for you attend, child. I'm afraid I must insist that you remain here. It will all be taken care of."

"No sir. I want to be there. Professor Green didn't do anything. HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! I want to make sure that _they _know that," Theresa shouted, nodding in the direction of the reporters who were still in the Hall, and her brother and his fiancee. Theresa was normally a very shy girl and abhorred drawing attention to herself, but her new found assertiveness was fuelled by her sense of outrage. Professor Green had given her his unwavering support, both as a professor and a friend, since he had come across her in a dark and out of the way corridor of the school. He'd been the first person to recognise her illness for what it was, and the first person to offer her any hope of therapeutic or medicinal relief. And she couldn't forget the way he had looked after her in the pharmacy at the risk of his own personal safety.

She would never be able to thank the professor properly for everything that he'd done for her, but she could certainly do everything she could to make sure that everybody knew that her favourite professor would never – ever – do anything as despicable as what the _Daily Prophet_ had accused him of. 

By now all of the reporters had left the Hall and Harry had ended his spell. 

"We can settle this without you Theresa. I'm going to insist that you do as Albus has suggested," Harry said calmly. Theresa nodded at her professor before she angrily sat back down in her seat crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the table.

"Professors Green, Snape, McGonagall, Weasley, Weasley…and Mr & Mrs Malfoy. Please, if you would, join me," Albus invited as he rose and led the way out of the Great Hall. The end of the staff table where Harry usually sat was nearest the door that the reporters and Theresa's brother and his girlfriend had just stepped through. This meant that Professor Snape and Draco, who sat at the other end of the staff table, brought up the rear end of the line of professors as they made to follow Albus. 

Quick as a cat, and desperate to help her favourite professor, Theresa leaped up from her seat at the student table and rushed over to speak with Draco.

"Mr Malfoy. Mr Malfoy. Sir," she whispered loudly.

Draco swivelled around as soon as he heard his name being called, as did Professor Snape. 

"Ah, you go on ahead. Let them know I'll be there in a second, okay?"

The Potions Master looked carefully at Theresa and simply nodded, before he spun on his heels and quickened his pace to catch up with the group of professors as they moved out of the Hall.

"I need a word with you, sir," Theresa whispered urgently. 

Draco looked around the hall and pulled her over to a quiet corner behind the staff table and waited for her to begin.

"Sir, you're one of Professor Green's friends, aren't you? I mean, you both get along really well in our classes…" Theresa began.

"Yes, I am." 

"Good. Sir, the Professor didn't do any of those things that they say he did. I swear it. I –"

"It's alright." Draco interrupted her quickly. "I don't think that he did any of those things either."

"…but it doesn't matter what anyone says because the reporters won't believe anything but what they want to believe. They won't care." Theresa paused and went on bitterly, "I've been telling them all morning that the story wasn't true, but they just kept smiling and patting me on the head and saying that they expected me to say something like that to protect him and that he'd probably say the same thing to protect me.... They've already decided what they're going to write. They're just here to get pictures to disgrace him."

"Oh that's not good," Draco muttered, his brain stirring into action.

"Sir, my best friend's Dad works in the Department of Education at the Ministry. I know it's a Saturday, but maybe she could ask him to come in and bring a few of the people who work with him to sit in on the meeting. They'll treat it as a formal investigation and if they think the reporters aren't questioning Professor Green properly, they'll question him themselves using their own veritaserum to make sure that all of his answers are truthful."

Draco stared at her. "I can see why you're in Ravenclaw, though you wouldn't make a bad Slytherin either.  How long have you been thinking about this?" 

Theresa blushed at the praise. "My best friend subscribes to the _Daily Prophet_ and she showed me the story as soon as we woke up. We've been discussing it since she mentioned that her Dad's Department would probably be conducting their own investigation right away on Monday morning."

Draco thought about it. "It's a workable idea…not to mention the only one we've got. Hang on a minute,  Professor Snape might have an objection to the part about using their veritaserum, though. Something to do with professional courtesy. Let me go and get him, okay? Wait here a minute." 

"Um, sir, Professors Green and Snape don't…like each other very much…" Theresa explained mildly, before Draco left.

"I know. But this is different Theresa. They've attacked Professor Green in his capacity as a Hogwarts Professor, and when that happens, all the staff close ranks and look after each other. I'll be right back."

*****

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy has had to take care of something. He asks that we wait for his return before we begin the meeting," Professor Snape informed everybody politely as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

Albus and Professor Snape exchanged a meaningful look before Albus nodded his agreement. 

"How _dare _you touch my sister, you – " Duncan began, hotly.

"WE WILL WAIT," the Headmaster interrupted loudly, "until Mr Malfoy joins us and we begin the meeting before we say anything further on the matter." Albus ended more softly, but in a tone that brooked no disagreement said, "If you cannot hold your tongue, you can leave."

Duncan silenced himself but turned back to glare at Harry, who matched his angry gaze with one of his own. Neither man looked away and it seemed an eternity passed before Duncan turned away, muttering under his breath as Harry coolly leaned back against the wall he had been standing against earlier.

"Are we the only ones who realise how absolutely ludicrous this story is? I mean, the man is _gay_. There's no way he'd be doing that to a young girl," Ron whispered to his wife.

"Ron! Ssh. Someone might hear you," Hermione admonished as she threw a look at Harry on the other side of the room; thanking her luck that she, her husband and Severus were the only ones actually in this part of the room. 

"What I mean is, why isn't he saying anything? This whole thing could be cleared up in about two seconds," Ron explained.

"Perhaps that type of information is private and he doesn't wish to share it with the readers of the _Daily Prophet,_" Professor Snape whispered. He had been standing near them when Ron had blurted that information out and had moved to stand behind them so he could speak to them. "You are lucky that we are the only ones over here, or your comment may have been overheard by more than just me."  

"Oops. You're right. I shouldn't have said anything. Um, just don't say anything to Jason about it, okay? I know you two don't really get along, but it wasn't my place to say anything in the first place and I didn't think anyone could overhear me."

"Sometimes you just don't think at all, do you?" Hermione whispered angrily to her husband. 

"I was just curious about why he won't try and clear his name,"  Ron blushed before he looked curiously at the older man. "You don't look very surprised about the news."

"Should I be? His sexual orientation is his own business, wouldn't you say?" __

"Ah, sure."

"Hey, is he alright?" Hermione asked quietly watching Harry lean against a wall, seemingly gasping for breath.  "He really doesn't look like he's doing well, does he?" she noticed, watching Harry closely as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and walked quickly past them and out the door. 

All of the reporters in the room began protesting immediately. Some even moved to follow him, but Ron and Hermione swiftly moved to stand in front of the door and block their access. "We'll go after him," they quickly offered, noting the potential for the situation to get of hand.

"Thank you. Nobody else will leave this room," Albus said coolly. It was well known that Albus was one of the only wizards You-Know-Who was actually afraid of, and no one really wanted to make Albus angry enough to find out why that was the case. So no one else made a move for the door, but Professor Snape did stand beside it, wand in hand, arms crossed over his chest and a menacing sneer on his face.

Ron and Hermione found Harry standing just outside the door, pale, shaky and gasping for breath.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked the obvious question.

"Yeah." he gasped. "I just…don't like…being…crowded by people.  It makes me…very…edgy," Harry replied between breaths. Just the thought of being mobbed by the circus of journalists had pushed him into a mild panic attack. _Nothing like this ever happened when whole groups of Death Eaters would come at me, but as soon as a big group of people wants to talk to me, I can't breathe… Man, oh man I have serious problems. Tony's right, I really do need to have my head examined._

Hermione watched him shrewdly as he concentrated on evening his breathing out.

"He'll be fine, Ron." Hermione informed her husband, matter of factly as she transfigured her handkerchief into a brown paper bag for Harry. "I've read a little bit on muggle psychology and muggles call this agoraphobia or social anxiety or social phobia."

"So which one is it?" asked Ron.

"I think it's a bit of all of them, really," Harry commented quietly, concentrating on breathing into the bag and calming himself down.

"They all describe basically the same sort of condition." Hermione added, watching Harry carefully

"Er…what on earth is he doing? What have you got in that bag?" Ron asked his wife, his brow creased in confusion.

"When muggles have a panic attack, they find themselves feeling shaky and their breath comes in really short gasps. They don't exhale fully before they inhale again, and when they inhale, they try to inhale too deeply, so they end up gasping for breath. People often have them breathe into a brown paper bag so they can breathe in the carbon dioxide they keep exhaling. It has a calming effect. See?" She explained to her husband, as Harry visibly began to calm down. 

"Oh. Hey, you're really handy to have around, sweetheart," he grinned at his wife.

"Thank you, darling," she said as she blushed prettily. 

"Thanks," Harry said quietly as he handed the bag back to Hermione.

"You keep it. You might need it again before we're finished here today," she offered wisely. Harry simply nodded and put it into one of the pockets in his trousers.

"Um, I'm curious to know…. Why don't you tell them that you wouldn't do anything to Theresa because you – you know, swing the other way? I mean, it would definitely clear this whole mess up, wouldn't it?" Ron asked quietly. 

"Actually, it wouldn't. In any case, that information's rather personal, wouldn't you say? In any case, it would probably just make things worse," Harry replied matter of factly, looking around to make sure that no one was nearby to over hear them.

"How?" Ron asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Well, there's no guarantee that they'd actually believe me. They might just think that I'd cooked up a convenient excuse to avoid facing their 'investigations' – and I'm using that word loosely, incidentally. Besides that, they'd probably start running stories about how young _boys _shouldn't be left in my care either."

"So what are you going to do?" Ron asked.

"I'm still working on that," Harry admitted, his eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"Well, you can't go back in there. Let me go and get Albus," Hermione offered as she went back into the room behind her, leaving Ron alone with Harry. She re-appeared a moment later with Albus, Minerva, Snape and Ginny behind her.

"I apologise, I completely forgot about your – thing."

"What's wrong? What thing?" asked Ginny curiously. "It's nothing bad, is it?" 

"No. I just don't like feeling…closed in by people, that's all. It's not normally a problem," Harry muttered, genuinely embarrassed. 

"Do you need a calming draught?" the Potions Master asked.

"No. I've got a bag, it's alright," Harry told him, still panting. Professor Snape looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

"It's a muggle thing." Hermione quickly explained. 

"Where is this meeting going to be held? Not in there I hope," Harry asked. He already knew where the meeting was going to be held, but he wanted to suggest a change in venue. 

"I thought we could hold it in my classroom," Minerva volunteered.

"Um…is there a bigger room we could hold the meeting in? I think I'd feel a bit more comfortable with a bit of space around me right now," Harry said.

"How about _my _classroom? The muggle studies rooms are the biggest in the school. I mean, we've got cars and fridges and everything in those classrooms. It won't take long to clear them out though and then there'd be plenty of room," Ron offered.

"Excellent," Albus agreed turning to Harry. "What say you?"

"I haven't seen it, but if it's the biggest classroom, then it'll have to do. There's just a couple of things though. When we get into the classroom, I don't want to be seated in the middle like I'm on trial. I think that we should have all the reporters up the front of the room. I want to sit right near the door, I don't know where you all want to be, but I guess if you stand to the side you could monitor what's happening fairly well."

Albus thought about this. "That sounds perfectly suitable. You and Ron should go and prepare the classroom. We will let the reporters know that Ron is keeping an eye on you and we will wait for one of you to come and tell us that you're ready." 

"Hey, what happened to all the reporters? Boy, when you said you were going to 'take care of them all' you weren't kidding were you? Remind me never to annoy you again," Draco commented to the Headmaster in cheek as he approached the small group. 

"Oh good, you're back – " Ron began.

"I'm sorry to have held you all up, but there's something important that I had to do. I'm nearly done but I actually came to get Severus. I won't be too long, I promise," Draco apologised. Ginny narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her husband. In all the years they'd known one another, every time Draco mentioned that he was doing 'something important' it meant that he was doing something devious or sneaky. Draco gave his wife an imploring look as if to say 'I'll tell you later', before he looked at Professor Snape.

"It won't take long," Draco explained as he looked at his friend.

"Of course. Ron and Jason are going to prepare the room for the meeting so we will be a short while yet," Albus assured them. He had a feeling that Draco was planning something, but he trusted him enough to know that whatever it was, it wouldn't jeopardise or undermine anything that the Headmaster was doing.

"Thank you," Draco said seriously, and he nodded once in his direction before heading off, Professor Snape following silently behind him.

"What is this about?" he asked as Draco brought him over to where Theresa was waiting for them in a dark out of the way corner of the Hall. Draco told his friend everything that Theresa had told him earlier. 

"I don't care for the idea of the Department members using their own veritaserum," Professor Snape observed to Draco and Theresa.

"Sir, I don't think they'll trust anyone else's," Theresa nervously volunteered.

The professor snorted. "I wouldn't trust _theirs_. In any case, I would at leastlike to test it." 

"I thought you might," Draco affirmed, nodding. 

"You should know that there is a problem with your idea, though," the Potions Master told the two before him.

"What problem?" Draco asked, genuinely confused. 

"Professor Green will never agree to take it."

"What?" exclaimed Draco, trying to keep his voice down since there were still people in the Hall. "Why on earth not?" 

Professor Snape threw a glance at Theresa before delicately stating, "The professor has…personal reasons…for not wanting to take veritaserum." During the first few months of Harry's stay at the school, Severus had discovered that the Ministry had no record of 'Jason Green's' existence and he had confronted the young man with this information during a meeting held in Albus' office before the Headmaster and a few members of staff. He had suggested that Harry give his answers under the influence of the potion to ensure that he was telling the truth, however, he had flatly refused. He had told everybody in the room, in no uncertain terms, that he didn't trust them not to ask other questions and fish for information that he didn't want to disclose.  Professor Snape could perfectly understand that. Goodness knows, he also had information that he didn't want to disclose to people in general and if he were in Harry's position, he wouldn't take the veritaserum, even if it was the only way to prove his innocence. That was why he knew, with absolute certainty, that Harry wouldn't take the veritaserum today.

Theresa thought quickly. "_He _might not be willing to take it, but _I _am."

"You are very young and it may be dangerous for you to – " Professor Snape began, giving Theresa a severe look.

"It doesn't matter," Theresa interrupted.  "You don't understand. I owe him so much…I have nothing to hide, Professor. He's done nothing wrong, and no one should think otherwise. Let me do it. Please," she finished, with her head held high and looking her Potions professor in the eye. "If you don't let me do it, I'll go to the Ministry myself on Monday and ask someone from the Department of Education to administer it so I can make a statement to them personally."

"You're developing a stubborn streak. Personally I think that's from spending so much time with Professors Snape and Green," Draco observed impishly, making Theresa grin despite the severity of the situation. 

After a long pause, her Potions Master relented, silently admiring her resolve and courage. "Very well. But I will insist that I test and supervise the administration of the veritaserum to you myself." 

"Thank you sir, and you Mr. Malfoy." 

"Can we use the floo network to contact Theresa's friend's Dad on such short notice?" Draco asked his friend.

"I don't see why not. Mr Weasley's classroom has a fireplace in it and I am sure it is connected to the network." 

"Theresa, we don't want to involve your friend in this anymore than she is already, but we'll need her to write a note to her Dad for us. We need her to explain what's going on and to ask him to come in as a personal favour to her. Okay?  We can deliver the note via floo, so it'll be faster than sending it by owl. Professor Snape and I need to go and get a few things but meet us back here as soon as you can, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Theresa said as she raced off to find her friend. 

"Do you think Albus will let Theresa take the veritaserum?" Draco nervously asked Severus.

"Yes. He will have a much bigger problem on his hands if this situation is not resolved," Severus replied.

"Speaking of which, I think Albus will want to speak to the kid that pointed Jason out." 

"I am sure he will do so once we have resolved the problem at hand. The Headmaster would not overlook something like that," the Potions Master told him.

"Do you believe her?" Draco asked the older man after some moments, as they headed out of the Hall. 

"Yes – but if she were not about to be given veritaserum I would be inclined to reserve judgment until all the facts were known."

"Typical Snape-ish answer," muttered Draco.

"Blind trust will get you killed." 

"I don't trust blindly."

"But you are naive." 

"I may be many things, but I don't think 'naïve' is one of them."

*****

"We'll all be meeting in the muggle studies classroom so wait for us in the passageway behind the tapestry round the corner from the room. We'll come and get you when we need you, alright?" Draco told Theresa when he and Severus met her in the Hall again. Theresa nodded her head as she turned and hurried out of the Hall.  

"Let's go," Draco suggested. 

"Sorry we took so long," Draco apologised as they entered the room.

"That's alright, I only just got back to let everyone know that the classroom's ready," Ron explained.

"We need a moment of your time," Professor Snape whispered to the Headmaster as everyone else in the room made ready to leave.  

"Of course. Let's move over here a little," the Headmaster indicated with his hand. 

The two men quickly explained what they proposed to do and Draco overrode Albus' objections. 

"I don't think I can allow such a young girl to take veritaserum," Albus protested.

"There's no other way to prove what's going on. Jason will never take it and this could quickly get out of hand. The Ministry will want to thoroughly investigate this in their own time and the reporters won't be happy until they can get a few more weeks worth of headlines out of this. We need to clear this up _today _and I can't think of another way to do it. In any case, she's already told us that she'll make a personal statement to the Department of Education herself on Monday under veritaserum if she can't do it here," Draco explained quickly.

"Has she? She's quite determined to do this, then," the Headmaster noted more to himself than anyone else. "Unfortunately, I can't think of an alternative solution right now. Very well. Severus, when you 'test' the Ministry's veritaserum, I want you to swap it for your own. I trust your potions more than I trust theirs," he praised his Potions Master, "and I want you to supervise the administration – if possible, I'd like you to administer it yourself."

"Of course, Headmaster," Professor Snape agreed.

"Gentleman, do you have any doubts about Theresa's sincerity?" Albus asked them.

"No," answered Draco, after some thought.

"She seems determined to go through with this, so I have no doubts," Professor Snape admitted.

"I must say, this behaviour seems to be completely out of character for her," Albus noted.

"I agree." Severus said.

"Very well, Draco, have Ron go on ahead and give Miss Washington's letter to her father through the floo in his classroom. Have him ask him to come as quickly as possible. It should only take about fifteen minutes for him to get here. We shall stall everyone for as long as we can." 

"Hey, now that I've found my favourite brother-in-law, I have a favour to ask of you…" Draco began as he led Ron to the door.

*****

"I believe the Headmaster requested that everybody produce _three_ pieces of identification, not _two_." Professor Snape told the journalist in front of him, coldly.

"This is absolutely ridiculous. I don't _have _three pieces of ID on me," the witch wailed as she searched through her handbag. 

"Then you may not join us in the meeting. You will be escorted off the premises shortly, if you'd kindly wait over there..." the Potions Master replied, gesturing to the other side of the room with his hand.

"Hang on, hang on. Oh, I don't know, maybe I've got a gym membership with me or something…" she muttered angrily. 

Professor Snape had to fight to keep the smile off his face. He was enjoying this enormously. 

"Professor Dumbledore! _Why _are we doing this? It's bloody ridiculous. I've never had to produce three pieces of ID to anyone before in my life. What's the meaning of this? I demand an answer sir!" shouted a beefy looking reporter.

"My good sir, I'm sure you can understand our need for security. After all, this is a _school _and I _will not _put my students in danger if I can help it. This is nothing more than a security measure," Albus replied pleasantly, watching as Hermione, Ginny, Minerva and Severus bullied the reporters into producing the required identification and then took their time thoroughly checking them and cross checking them against one another. _That should buy us just about enough time, shouldn't it Draco?_

"This is an outrage sir. An outrage. I have never been so insulted in all my life!" cried one loud reporter.

"No, Severus," Minerva warned as she saw that the Potions Master had opened his mouth and was about to comment. He abruptly closed his mouth and looked at Minerva, the corners of his mouth twitching, threatening to form a smirk.

"You're right. Too easy and not worth the effort," he observed. Minerva looked back at the outraged journalist and worked very hard to stifle a laugh as he continued to yell and bluster.

"Can't we move this along?" Sarah asked huffily.

"We are moving this along as quickly as we can. But we do need to be _thorough_, after all, this is for security. And I only have four staff here with me. It wouldn't take so long if there weren't so many of you but…" Albus shrugged helplessly, indicating that they brought this dilemma on themselves.

"Right, so who's next then?" Ginny asked as she passed one more journalist through.

"Me!" Sarah yelled, pushing her way to the front and dragging Duncan along with her.

*****

"Excuse me, Headmaster, a word with you?" Draco politely asked.

"Of course," he replied mildly as he followed Draco outside the room and closed the door behind him. 

"What on earth are you doing in there?" Draco asked, though he could more or less figure it out from the snippets of conversation he could pick up from various parts of the room.

"Screening process, my boy. Very thorough – and _lengthy_ – process too," Albus replied, casting a significant look at Draco.

"Oh," he replied, cottoning on and trying to repress a smile.

"Albus Dumbledore, this is Johnathon Washington."

"Yes, excellent student when he was here," he observed to Draco.

"Thank you Professor Dumbledore."

"Please, call me Albus. You're not in school anymore. Now. Has Draco explained to you what has happened?"

"Yes. I have Jane's letter with me as well. I know what's going on and I was told me that you wanted me to conduct an investigation here right away. I brought a couple of assistants from my Department with me as well, so everything is nice and official."

"I realise that conducting an investigation on a Saturday is a little unorthodox, but I'm sure you can understand that we want this resolved as quickly as possible, one way or the other," Albus observed.

"I agree. When do you want me to begin?"

"Er, we've just implemented a new security measure and the checks are just about done. Why don't you get set up in the room and we'll join you down there?"

"Suits me." 

"Excellent. We will see you shortly then." Albus called out as he returned to the room. 

"Right, now, about your veritaserum. Our Potions Master will want to test it first – professional courtesy you understand, nothing more…" Draco explained as they made their way to the muggle studies classroom.

*****

"That's odd. I'm sure there were more of you than that," Harry observed from his position sitting on the desk at the back of the room, near the door, after all of the reporters had filed in. 

"Some of them didn't make it through our…screening process," Ginny replied with a perfectly straight face. Several people threw dark looks at her and Harry decided that whatever the process involved, it mustn't have been pleasant.

"Why are we all squashed up the front like this?" complained one of the reporters.

"Look, these are the arrangements. If you don't like them, you can leave," Ron told her.

"Can we _finally _get _on _with this?" asked Sarah loudly. "We've spent all morning holed up with _them_, when it's _you _we came to see," she complained in a loud voice, pointing her finger up at Harry, who looked back at her, completely nonplussed. 

"I gathered that much."

"Do you deny the truth of the article Professor Green?" called out one of the journalists.

"There _is _no truth in that article," Harry replied calmly.

"Liar!" 

"And who are you?" Harry asked, with every intention of being rude.

"I'm Sarah Walters, Duncan's fiancée." she replied haughtily, jutting her chin out.

"Uh-huh. So who's Duncan?" Harry asked rudely.

"I'm Theresa's brother," he replied angrily, standing up. 

"And what are the two of you doing here?"

"We've come to hear your explanation," Sarah answered.

"Right. Well, I think you've already made up your minds, so I wonder that you took the trouble to come all the way over here," Harry observed. "And Ms. Walters, my hearing is very good, you don't need to scream. If you can't speak in normal tones then I'll simply remove you from the room. Is that clear?" Harry asked, levelling a steely gaze at her.

"I'm not one of your students. How _dare_ – " 

"Sit down!" Harry snapped irritably. He turned to face Duncan. "There is nothing improper happening between your sister and myself. I give you my word, should you choose to accept it."

"I _don't_ accept it."

"What makes you think I'm lying?" Harry asked, trying to reason with the man.

"She's been writing to me about you," Duncan told Harry as he pulled out some of the letters that Theresa had written. 

_"Professor Green is just the best teacher. I really understand what I'm doing in his class. I mean I love all the other subjects, but Defence is my favourite now, I think."_

_"Professor Green is giving me extra lessons in defence so I can catch up. He's awesome. There isn't any question he can't answer and he knows how to do things that I've never seen in any of the books. He taught me how to punch like a muggle. You just wait – the next time you annoy me, pow!"___

_"Professor Green did something so awesome for me today. I'm not allowed to tell you what it was because the Headmaster swore me to secrecy, but he got hurt and I think it was because of me. He's really cool, __Duncan__. And guess what, he convinced me to get extra tutoring in Potions as well and Professor Snape just told me I got the highest mark in the last class quiz he gave out. Isn't that awesome? And _Potions _of all things! ___

"_You _tell _me_, Professor, why should I think you're _not _lying? Extra tutoring lessons? You did something for her and then swore her to secrecy? Just what am I _not _supposed to be suspicious about?" 

"I am sure this can all be explained away," Albus reasoned gently.

"Of course it can," Harry replied impatiently. "Her grades have improved ten fold since I began giving her extra lessons in my subject. Considering all the work she's had to do to pull her grades up so much, I'm surprised that you'd think there was any time left in those lessons to do anything other than work."

"Maybe her marks improved because she likes you so much," Sarah countered, with a smirk.

"Well if that's the case, I think you've written the article about the wrong professor. It's true, she's made a big improvement in my subject, but her marks have made an even _bigger _improvement in potions. By your reasoning, that must mean she likes Professor Snape more than she likes me." Professor Snape glared at Harry.

"If he keeps saying things like that, your reputation as a heartless Potions Master is going to go up in smoke," Minerva observed to Severus, who just smirked at her comment. 

"Maybe that's a reflection of how…intimidating…he is." said one reporter, with a nasty grin.

"Maybe that's a reflection of how good a teacher he is," snapped Harry angrily. Severus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Let's bring things into focus. You've caused enough problems by insulting _one _

Hogwarts Professor, don't try and make things worse by insulting _two_. We're not here to call names and _I'm _not here to be questioned by _you_. It's obvious that you're just going to write whatever you feel like writing, regardless of what I say, so, I'm going to be asking you questions, and I'll start with…you." Harry said, pointing to a young wizard at the front of the group of reporters.

The professors were impressed at the way Harry had managed to manipulate the situation so that he was now the interrogator, rather than the one being interrogated. Several of them grinned in open amusement, Ginny gave voice to a particularly nasty little laugh and Professor Snape nodded in silent approval and admiration of Harry's skill. 

"Who gave you the story to print?" Harry asked, directly.

"I don't understand."

"Who gave you the 'facts' for the story? Who did you interview? Who came to you and told you that I'd behaved improperly toward one of my students?" Harry asked evenly. 

"How do you know _I _wrote it?" he asked.

"I saw your name tag, genius."  

Ginny snorted from her position in the room and tried to disguise the rest of her laughter by pretending to have an extended coughing fit.

"Oh, well I'm not permitted to reveal my source."

"Do you even have one?" Harry asked "because – " Harry was interrupted by someone coming into the room. Draco had left earlier, but Harry simply assumed that he was heading to the bathroom or had gone in search of a drink, so he was surprised to see Draco re-enter the room followed by a man, who he didn't know, and Theresa, who was looking every inch and angry young woman. 

"Theresa, come over – " Duncan began.

"Leave me alone!" Theresa yelled out, causing several people to gasp at her rudeness. Turning to Professor McGonagall, she asked "Professor, does he believe the stories too?"

"I'm afraid so, dear." 

"You sodding idiot! You didn't even _ask _me," she said in cold tones as she turned back to face him. Many of the journalists eyed the pair with interest, and some of them started to jot down notes about the argument. 

"You would have denied it, to protect him," Duncan countered, angrily.

"He's old enough to be able to protect himself. And, if there really _was _anything happening between me and the professor, you would have been the first person I'd have told. Let me emphasise _would _have," she responded, icily. 

"What's going on?" asked one of the reporters up the back.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind knowing that myself," Harry said coolly, his arms folded across his chest, eyebrows raised at Draco, Theresa and the gentleman that had entered the room with them.

"Excuse me. Johnathon Washington, Manager of the Department of Education at the Ministry of Magic." Johnathon introduced himself to Harry, moving over to shake his hand. "My Department is responsible for investigating these sorts of complaints and I would have been here on Monday to begin my investigation, 

class=Section2> 

but I understand that we'd all be interested in a speedy resolution of this matter so I'll be conducting an investigation _today_. These are my assistants, Tom Black and Amy Shire. It's a simple matter really. I already know the nature of the complaint, and I'd normally begin by bringing everyone into the one room to see if we can talk about the problem a little bit, but in the interest of speed, I'll begin with the veritaserum right away. Oh, and incidentally, you won't be permitted to write your stories on this," he addressed the reporters, specifically. "My assistant is the department's public relations officer and she'll be submitting her own report to your magazines. You all know the rules."

"Ah, excuse me. I won't be taking veritaserum," Harry stated evenly.

"Ah ha! Still think he's innocent, do you?" one particularly shrill witch asked Albus.

"It's not an admission of guilt. I'm just exercising my right not to take vertaserum. I think you'll find, if you check the rules, that I'm permitted to do that," Harry noted in his 'lawyer' voice.

"Oh, it's okay, professor. The veritaserum isn't for _you_, it's for _me,_" Theresa replied determinedly from beside Draco.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Theresa, I _asked _you not to get involved," he firmly told his student, who's resolve began to waver at the tone of his voice.

"And I gave my permission for her _to _get involved. You can see Miss Chan's predicament, she has to disobey one of us, and since I'm the Headmaster, I'm afraid she's going to have to listen to me instead of you." Albus stepped in, a familiar glint in his eye. "Professor Snape, if you would test the potion please." 

The Potions Master made a show of testing the Ministry's veritaserum on one of the benches while discreetly swapping the sample for his own serum. After declaring that the serum was authentic, he handed the sample to Johnathon who dipped an eyedropper into the vial and added a few drops to some juice for Theresa to drink.

"The dosage that Theresa is taking should give us about an hour to work with her. Normal investigation rules apply, so I'll ask that no one in the room speak while she is under the effects of the serum," Johnathon instructed as Theresa drank the potion and Professor Snape looked on. 

"If anybody breaks that rule, I will be forced to take steps." Albus threatened the people in the room and a few people gulped in response to Albus' warning which pleased Albus to no end as he sent Theresa a wink and an encouraging smile.

"Okay. Please state your full name." Johnathon began his questioning. 

"Theresa Kai Lun Chan." 

Johnathon looked over at Duncan, who nodded  to verify that this was her full name.

"That's a very pretty name."

"Thank you."

"What school House are you in?"

"Ravenclaw."

"Is Professor Green your Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor?"

"Yes."

"Is he a good professor?"

"Yes."

"What makes him a good professor?"

"We learn all about the strengths and weaknesses of a spell and we learn about its origins so it makes it easier to remember how to use it and what the proper incantation is. Every other time I've had to learn a spell it's just been rote learning and it can get pretty confusing after a while keeping them all straight."

"Does Professor Green give you extra lessons?"

"Yes."

"What do you do during those lessons?"

"We revise the spells that I've learned and we go over anything I'm having problems with. We've been doing a lot of duelling lately."

"Were you, or are you involved in a romantic relationship with Professor Green?"

"No."

"Has he ever touched you?"

"Well, when I fall over during lessons he sometimes helps me get back up, and when he was teaching me how to punch he had to show me how to clench my fist properly and brace my wrist."

"Has he ever kissed you?"

"No."

"Has he ever discussed the possibility of having a romantic relationship with you?"

"No."

Duncan had handed Theresa's letters to Albus who had brought them over to Johnathon so that he could ask more questions to put Duncan's suspicions to rest.

"Have you been writing home to your brother about Professor Green?"

"Yes."

"You've said he's wonderful, fantastic and a great professor. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Do you find Professor Green attractive?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"I think he's one of the nicest people I've ever met…and he's really cute…but I don't love him romantically. I love him as much as I love my other friends." 

"What makes him so 'wonderful' and 'fantastic'?"

"First of all, he's a great professor. His teaching style makes it so easy to learn because he only really focuses on what we need to know to be able to use the spell. He doesn't worry about making us learn all about the person who invented the spell, or something equally as useless. 

"He's a great person. I've suffered from epilepsy all my life and I can't take the preventative potion because I'm allergic to one of the ingredients in it. At first I only ever had seizures once every now and then. They were really rare and mum always kept an eye on them. But since I came to Hogwarts, I've had them pretty frequently. Maybe it's all the lights from the spells coming out of everyone's wands that sets it off, I don't know. I tried to hide it because, well, I don't want to be seen in the middle of a seizure. I don't know if any of you have ever seen one before –  it's really humiliating, and painful. 

"Professor Green came upon me in the middle of one of my episodes when I was trying to hide in one of the hallways down where all the storage cupboards are. I was so embarrassed afterwards when he and Madam Pomfrey figured out that I'd been lying about the number of seizures I had. I thought I'd be in big trouble, but he put me onto muggle medication and it seems to be working, for the most part. I was supposed to be going to the doctor with Professor Green today to see about a change in medication but I can't now because the surgeries will all be closed by the time we finish here so I'll have to wait until next weekend, I guess."

Quite a few of the reporters in the room squirmed uncomfortably when they heard this and Professor Snape grinned viciously at this.

"I haven't felt this healthy for years. I'm exercising more now and I'm even thinking of trying out for the quidditch team next year. 

"I rarely ever miss classes anymore and my marks are much better than they used to be. I'm getting extra help with the two subjects I find the hardest and I think I'm doing really well. Professor Snape told me the other day that I'm currently running fifth in the year for fourth year potions, and I was nearly _failing _the class before."

Theresa paused to have a drink of plain juice.

"Theresa, you mentioned that Professor Green did something awesome for you but the Headmaster swore you to secrecy. What did he do?"

"We were at a pharmacy a few weeks ago, picking up my medicine and some people came crashing through into the pharmacy and started firing guns everywhere. I was so scared and couldn't move, but he picked me up and threw me over a counter so I wouldn't get hit by any of the bullets. There was a man who was trying to grab me and I'd moved back as far as I could go and he was getting nearer and then Professor Green threw a knife into his hand before he could reach me and the man passed out. Professor Green ended up getting hurt himself trying to help us."

"So the story in the newspaper wasn't true?"

"No! It was all lies. Professor Green is wonderful and he's a perfect gentleman…and you can all go to Hell before I let anyone believe anything else!" 

Johnathon checked his watch. "The potion should be starting to wear off right about now, so I'll let Professor Snape take you out, maybe he can give you a sleeping draught if you'd like to rest," Johnathon suggested. 

"Oh my God," muttered Duncan, his head in his hands.

"Oh wow," said Hermione quietly while Ginny, sitting by her side, dabbed at her own eyes with a hanky. 

"Well, that was nice," Draco commented.

"Theresa," began Harry, "um…thank you." He was genuinely moved and humbled by the words of his student. 

"No, Professor, thank _you_," she replied as she let all the gratitude she felt for him flow into the small smile she gave as she rose from her seat, waiting for Professor Snape to lead her out of the room. Before the Potions Master had stood up though, Sarah had leapt up from her seat and pointed her wand at Harry. 

"Legillimens!" she cried in a shrill voice.

Harry had just finished speaking to Theresa and his mind was unguarded, but with the speed of his  reflexes he was able to throw off her attack without having allowed her to glimpse anything of importance in his mind. The force of having her spell thrown off pushed Sarah back into her chair.

Everything had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that no one in the room had had the time to prevent Sarah from acting. 

"What on earth are you _doing_?" Duncan asked her, sounding very unsure of himself.

"No! I need to know!  Legilimens!" she cried desperately as she threw the spell again. Once more, Harry threw off her attempt with ease. 

With a level gaze at Sarah, Harry told her, "There's no excuse for sloppy spell work. _This _is how you do it." Harry lectured her as he pointed his own wand at her before calmly saying,  "Legilimens." __


	11. chapter11

 SEQ CHAPTER h r 1Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of Harry Potter or any of the characters. Only the plot is my own.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the story.  My regular beta **Sepia **is unwell at the moment. Lots of well wishes to her for a speedy and thorough recovery and a big thank you to my guest betas, **Texasjeanette** and **Maxwell Demon,** your efforts are greatly appreciated. J

Thank you to **Maxwell Demon **who has lent her artistic talents to the fic.  Her pictures have been uploaded onto her website. I can't upload her website address on FFnet but her website address is on my author profile page. I'll try and think of another way to get it in here. If anyone has any suggestions…Incidentally, her picture of Theresa is definitely my favourite so far.

Follow the link and then click on "Lady Assassin's" Link.  If her pictures aren't uploaded yet, they'll be up in a couple of days so please check back then.

_At this point I think I should make a small confession. I…er…have been taking a lot of liberties with the world of pharmacology and pharmaceuticals and a lot of the things that I've written about aren't actually possible. My back ground is in law (why I didn't make Harry a lawyer I'll never know) but I've got a couple of lovely reviewers who have offered to let me ask them anything regarding pharmacology (being pharmacology students themselves) so even though I'm stuck with the unrealistic world of pharmacology according to Harry Potter, I might be able to throw a little realism in there every now and then. However, if you squint your eyes and stand on your head, it doesn't seem _too _unrealistic_.  J

FROM CHAPTER 10

"Legilimens!" she cried in desperate shrill tones.

Harry had just finished speaking to Theresa and his mind was unguarded, but with the speed of reflexes honed during his years fighting in the war, he was able to throw off her attack without having allowed her to glimpse anything of importance in his mind. The force of having her spell thrown off pushed Sarah back against her chair. She fell off the chair and landed heavily onto the floor.

Everything had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that no one in the room had had the time to prevent Sarah from acting.

"What on earth are you _doing_?" Duncan asked her, sounding very unsure of himself.

"No! I need to know! Legilimens!" she cried desperately as she threw the spell again. Once more, Harry threw her attempt off with ease.

With a level gaze at Sarah, Harry told her, "There's no excuse for sloppy spell work. _This _is how you do it." Harry lectured her as he pointed his own wand at her before calmly saying,  "Legilimens."

CHAPTER 11

Sarah trembled under the force of the spell and the effort of trying to throw it off.

"What are you _doing_? Stop it, you're hurting her," Duncan yelled, jumping from his seat and joining Sarah on the ground, gathering her in his arms.

"You've got to be kidding," Ron said. 

"I'm not _hurting _her, I'm _educating _her," Harry replied coolly as he sifted through an assortment of information and images from her mind.

"Mr Green, I must say that as a Ministry Official, I really can't allow this," Johnathon interrupted just before Harry released her from the spell.

"Oh come on!" cried Ron. "She attacked him – twice. She really brought this one on herself."  The staff members did nothing to stop Harry, secretly agreeing with Ron and since Harry had everything well in hand, they decided to stand aside and not interfere.

"Well, well, well. Isn't _that _interesting?" Harry said coldly, looking down at Sarah who was trembling and gasping for breath. "I think you should make sure she doesn't go anywhere," Harry suggested to Albus, never taking his eyes off Sarah.

Sarah had other ideas. Breaking free from her fiancee's grasp she sprang to her feet, making a desperate attempt to reach the door, but the Headmaster stunned her so she didn't get very far at all.

"What's going on?" asked Duncan, absolutely confused, pulling his wand out.

"I wouldn't," Professor Snape warned him, pointing his own wand at Sarah.

"The minute you revive her, one of us will simply stun her again," Draco told him, also pointing his wand at her.  Ginny and the other professors had their wands aimed at the reporters that were in the room.

"I suggest that we remove the reporters… Duncan and Theresa as well," Harry said.

Everybody who had been asked to leave protested loudly at this.

"You can't just dismiss us..."

"No way, this is front page stuff..."

"The public has a right to know..."

"The truth will come out..."

"You've never let the truth get in the way of a story before," Harry said archly.

"SILENCE." Everyone ceased talking. "You will follow Professors Weasley out of the room," Albus instructed as he moved casually over to Harry's side. "What did you see?" he asked very quietly as everybody began to gather their belongings together.

"I'll tell you in a minute.  And perhaps we should erase everybody's memory of this last little incident.  It's probably best that the general public doesn't know about Sarah. Wouldn't you think?"

"I agree. We'll let them remember Theresa's statement – except for the part describing the incident at the pharmacy –  and nothing further." Albus politely excused himself to issue quiet instructions to Ron and Hermione.

"…the nearest vacant classroom.  I must emphasise that you cannot let anyone escape from the group.  They must all be obliviated.  Take the other professors and both Ginny and Draco with you.  Once you have finished, return their wands and have a group of house elves escort the reporters out of the school.  Then return here."

"Right," nodded Hermione.

"More bloody trouble than they're worth, the lot of them," Ron muttered darkly.

"Excuse me!" cried Duncan. "I think I have a right to be here."

Albus looked up from where he was, but before he could respond, Harry leapt off the desk he was sitting on and walked up to Duncan and Sarah, pulling his wand out.  Duncan flinched when he saw Harry's wand pointed in his direction, and several other people in the room gasped.

"He wouldn't," Hermione whispered.

"I wish he _would_, in fact, I wonder if he'd let me help him," Ron added earning a nod from Draco and an evil smirk from Severus.

"Oh don't be ridiculous, I'm not going to do anything to you,"  Harry snapped irritably.

Duncan retorted.  "Well, it's just that, you – "

"Your fiancee attacked me... twice. Since _you _haven't done anything, you've got nothing to worry about," Harry explained, holding his wand low at his side.

"What are you doing?" Duncan asked, nervously.

"Take off her right shoe and give it to me," Harry commanded.  Duncan's confusion mirrored everyone else's, but he did it anyway.  Harry took the expensive running shoe from him and held it out in front of him.

"Be careful professor. Um... her feet, er... smell," Theresa warned.  Harry grimaced and the rest of the Hogwarts staff fought desperately to keep from laughing on the spot.

"Er…on second thought, maybe I'll just let him handle this on his own," Ron said quietly, trying not to choke.

"Look carefully, you will see a lever and a pressure point here.  It's on the side of the shoe so it will not be triggered by accident.  This is a good thing because when it's triggered," Harry paused to trip the trigger on the shoe and a well concealed six inch dagger sprung forward from the front tip of the shoe.

"Holy shit!" cried one of the reporters, amidst gasps of surprise.

"Holy shit is right," Harry commented as he pulled the knife from the shoe and held it out in front of Duncan.  "Your fiancée was planning to use this on me.  Believe me, you don't want to be implicated in this.  I suggest you leave. Now."

"Shit. I s- swear, I- I had no idea. I had nothing to do with this... any of this.  In fact, I don't think I want anything to do with her at all anymore," Duncan stammered, quickly releasing Sarah with a look of disgust and scrambling to his feet.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too upset about ending your relationship with her if I were you.  She's been sleeping with your secretary for about six months now," Harry tossed out casually, examining the blade of the dagger.

"What? But my secretary's a woman!"

"That doesn't seem to be a problem for either one of them, does it? Oh, yeah, and you might want to ask your sister why she doesn't like Sarah," Harry added.

Duncan stared helplessly, first at Harry and then at Theresa, who was blushing fiercely, feeling very much out of his depth.

"I think I'll leave," Duncan said quietly.

"An excellent idea," Professor Snape observed.

"Mr Malfoy, I want to stay. I'm involved here too now," Theresa whispered to Draco who was standing on one side of her.

"You should go. It's a little dangerous for you," Draco said, putting one hand on her shoulder.

"But – "

"Let Professor Green handle this. You don't want to get in his way, do you?" Draco asked, laying as much guilt into that question as he could.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"I didn't think so," he said knowingly.

"I'll see that she returns to her rooms.  Perhaps her brother should join her," Professor Snape commented from the other side of Theresa.  Draco nodded and turned back to the young student.

"How did you put up with her?" asked Draco, nodding in Sarah's direction as he and the potions master led Theresa to the door.

"Oh, she's definitely not nice, but sometimes her cousin would come round, and she's ten times worse," she explained with a grimace.

"Who could be worse than _her_?" Draco asked her, trying to continue the conversation all the way to the door so that she wouldn't ask to stay again.

"Her cousin is Bambi... no Pansy... um... Parkinson or something like that.  You've really got to know her to know what I'm talking about."

_Been there, done that, _Draco grimaced inwardly to himself.

"Go to your room and stay with your brother.  I'll come and get you after we finish up here," Draco said as he opened the door for her.

"Okay," she sighed.

Draco joined his wife and the other professors as they ushered the reporters out of the room. It was no mean feat erasing the memories of that many people, but finally they decided to hold them in one classroom and then lead them, in groups of five, to the room directly across the hall.  Once there, they obliviated them before having a couple of house elves escort them off the premises.

They finally returned to Ron's classroom to find the others deep in discussion. Sarah was still sitting stunned in the middle of the room.

"We need to make it official," said Johnathon.

"Then get _her _to take it," Harry countered.

"She's entitled to refuse – and let's face it, if what you said is true, she probably will.  If that happens, we need _you _to take it."

Harry stayed stubbornly silent.

"Ah, excellent, you're back.  Well, let's get started shall we?" Albus asked, politely.

Draco, Ginny and the professors gathered around Sarah with their wands drawn and leveled at her.

"Is that really necessary?" Johnathon asked mildly, glancing around him.

"For safety," Hermione explained.

"Whose? Yours or hers?"

"A bit of both, really," Ron replied thoughtfully.

"Whatever," Johnathon sighed. "I don't remember school being this exciting when I was here," he muttered as he pointed his wand and revived Sarah, who immediately tried to leap up.

"I am afraid youmust stay right where you are," said Albus sternly.  "You see, the Ministry is very interested in hearing about what you were going to do here today – and the rest of us are _particularly _interested in knowing why you were going to attack one of our colleagues."

Sarah sat back up on her seat, folded her arms across her chest, firmly pressed her lips together, and glared at them all defiantly.

"We need to make this nice and official, so I ask you to give your statement under veritaserum," Johnathon explained to her.

"No. I'm allowed to refuse.  Isn't that right, Professor Green?" Sarah asked bitingly.

"Yes, you are," Harry agreed.

"In that case, I ask _you _to take the veritaserum and make a statement about what you discovered," Johnathon offered to Harry.

Harry simply shook his head in refusal.

"Now you're stuck, aren't you?" Sarah taunted them.

"This only means we cannot conduct a _formal _ministry investigation into the matter.  I can assure you, however, that we are more than willing to deal with this matter… _unofficially_,"  the Potions Master threatened.

"In any case, this matter isn't for my department.  I'll send some aurors in to handle this if you'd like?"

"That will not be necessary. I am certain this won't be too difficult to resolve," Albus assured him gently.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do anything to hurt her," said Johnathon.

"No one is going to hurt her. We are upset that one of our colleagues was put in danger today, but I can assure you that no one will hurt her," Albus pressed.

"Alright," he conceded.  "Well, since there's nothing left for me to do, I'll head off. Um, would you mind if I stopped off at the kitchens on the way out though? I left in a bit of a hurry this morning and I'm afraid that I didn't get to finish my breakfast," Johnathon asked sheepishly.

"Of course," Albus said jovially, showing his former student to the door. "Thank you for coming in so quickly."

"You're welcome. You know, I really do miss this place," Johnathon replied wistfully, as the door closed behind him and his assistants.

"It's obvious that you're not going to tell what you were planning to do here, so I'll do it then, shall I?" Harry stated, quiet and cold, once Johnathon had left the room.

"You can't prove anything!" Sarah said venomously.

Harry gave her a look that spoke volumes about her stupidity.  "I don't need to.  This isn't an official investigation anymore, remember? And, I have your knife," Harry told Sarah, who quickly looked down, noticing for the first time that one of her shoes was missing.

"Don't tell us you just noticed?" Ron asked in surprise.

"Give her some leeway, she was just stunned," Hermione explained, the corners of her mouth twitching, "that'd make anyone a bit groggy for a while."

"Yeah, it would, wouldn't it?" Ron said in malicious amusement.

"This really is an excellent blade – dual edged, minimal flexibility, sturdy," Harry pronounced, expertly turning the blade over in his hands and examining it closely.

Knowing there was nothing she could say that would help her in this situation, Sarah simply glared at Harry from her seat.

"Make yourself comfortable, I believe there are some things we need to discuss," Albus told her.

"I don't have to say anything you!" she spat.

"Quite right. You do not _have_ to say anything. I can assure you though that you will _want_ to talk to us once you've taken a little of this," Professor Snape told her coldly, holding a small vial of veritaserum up for her to see.

"If you even try it, I'll scream – someone will come and help me."

"Surely you're kidding, right?" Ron scoffed.  "You're on _our _turf, what makes you think anyone would come to help _you_?" Ron noticed Sarah's shoulders droop a little.  "Besides, no one's going to hear you. We've already taken care of that." Ron used his wand to gesture at the room, indicating to her that a silencing charm had been placed over the room.

Sarah's face dropped as she realised that she was at the mercy of the witches and wizards in the room, without the possibility of escape. She looked around her, frantically searching for something, anything.

"Looking for this?" Harry asked politely, holding her wand in front of him. "I took the liberty of holding onto it for you. Things will run much more smoothly if I keep it with me."

In desperation, the woman tried to run, but Draco, Ginny and the professors had already formed a circle around her and she ran straight into Ginny. She struggled against her, trying to bite, kick and scratch in an attempt to escape from the strong grasp, but Ginny had grown up with six brothers who had taught her how to look after herself very well. She quickly found the sensitive nerve in the fleshy area of the webbing of both of Sarah's hands, right next to the thumbs and she pinched it – hard –causing her to fall to her knees and scream in pain.

"Yes, it really hurts, doesn't it?" Ginny asked, almost pleasantly.

"Yes, it really does," Draco muttered quietly as he watched his wife in action. He spoke in tones that suggested that he'd been on the receiving end of that particular move before.

"I taught her that one myself," Ron proudly told everyone who was standing near him.

"So I have _you_ to thank for that?" Draco grumbled under his breath.

"Return to your seat, Sarah," Albus instructed.

Ginny released her hold on the woman who stood up, gingerly rubbing her hands. "You can't make me stay here," she told them.

Albus paused before he replied thoughtfully.  "Maybe not, but we will certainly give it our best endeavour."

She returned to her seat and glared at him. "If you do _anything _to me, I'll tell the Ministry and I'll have you all before the Court."

Albus raised an eyebrow calmly but Draco took a step forward and told her in threatening tones "What makes you think you'll be _able _to tell the Ministry?"

Sarah paled considerably at this. She'd heard stories about the Malfoys – who hadn't?

"Mr. Malfoy. That will do," Albus admonished, but the rebuke was belied by the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, and lack of force behind the statement. Draco nodded at Albus and took a step back from Sarah, still giving her a chilly look. The Headmaster turned steely eyes to Sarah. "Young lady, you made it very clear that you did not want the Ministry to be involved in this, so we have no other option but to take matters into our own hands. Now, I believe my professor had something to share with us."

Harry made himself comfortable on the desk he was sitting on. "Sarah was at the mall the day that I took Theresa to the pharmacy. She'd been keeping an eye on the Order members who were patrolling that day, and she got a bit of a shock when she saw Theresa walk right into the pharmacy she was sitting in front of. You see, Sarah has made it very clear that she doesn't like muggles, so she was afraid that Theresa would recognise her and ask her what she was doing in a muggle shopping mall." Pausing to look at Sarah, he asked "Isn't that right?"

Sarah looked away from Harry, refusing to answer him.

"What business does she have keeping an eye on my staff?" Albus asked Harry, gazing sternly at the woman.

"From what I could tell, she'd gone to visit her brother that morning. He told her that he was supposed go to the mall and keep an eye on any Hogwarts professors who might be there.  He then invited her to go along with him and help him out."

"Who is her brother?" Albus interrupted.

"Walter Walters."

"You're joking," Ron said loudly.

"No, that's really his name."

"Poor thing," muttered Ron in sympathy.

"I agree." Ginny added with a grimace.

Sarah glared at both of them as they looked back at her, completely unaffected.

"Anyway, her brother told Sarah and the rest of his friends who were sitting outside the pharmacy, that if they saw any professors leaving they had to make sure they didn't go anywhere.  He explained they only needed one, but told them that if they saw either Draco or Professor Snape to _definitely_ keep them from going anywhere."

"Why is that?" Severus intoned.

"She doesn't know.  She was only there at her brother's behest and apparently he failed to explain his reasons. Isn't that right?" Harry asked Sarah in a particularly condescending tone of voice. When he didn't get a response, he looked at Albus and continued.

"After that, her brother went into the pharmacy to see if Draco or any professors were inside. When all the trouble broke out, s_he,_" Harry nodded his head at Sarah, "was quite happy to stay outside and watch what was happening."

"How could she see?" Draco asked.

"The whole front wall was made of glass, so I don't think it would have been too hard to see inside." Harry told him.

"Oh, I forgot about that." Draco admitted ruefully, shaking his head at his own forgetfulness.

"She may have been happy to stay outside, but she definitely _wasn't _happy when she saw me throw a knife at her brother."

"No way! The guy who tried to grab Theresa was Sarah's brother?" Ginny asked in surprise.

"Yep," Harry answered.

"Small world," commented Ron.

"Very," Hermione agreed.

"So, she's not happy with you?" Ron asked, understating the obvious.

"Apparently not. It turns out that the fellow that her brother works for told him that he had to stake out the mall and come back to him with Draco, Professor Snape or any other Hogwarts professor.  He botched his job and landed himself into a whole lot of trouble because of it, and because he allowed himself to be injured as well. He told Sarah, and she decided that she'd come and show me exactly how unhappy she was about that."

"How did she know who you were?" Hermione asked shrewdly.

"I gather she could see my face from where she was sitting.   Since I was with Theresa, she assumed I was a wizard and started asking people who I was. Various people from Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley could put a name to the image of my face that she created for them. Duncan always read Theresa's letters to her whenever he got them and when people from Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley mentioned my name, she realised that I was the professor in Theresa's letters.

"You've read some of the letters.  It was rather easy for Sarah to persuade Duncan that there was something improper about the relationship between Theresa and myself.  Sarah suggested that Duncan confront you about the matter.  This meant that she could tag along with him into the school and when I was called in to explain myself, she'd be near enough to me to do…whatever it was exactly she was going to do.  It was just a bonus for her that Duncan decided to take the story to the newspapers instead. He thought that you'd try and keep this all quiet and that the families of the other students deserved to know what kind of professor you'd hired."

"What exactly did she plan to do to you?" Ginny asked quietly, her eyes – and wand – fixed on Sarah.

"Well, I don't think she had anything in the way of a solid plan.  She just wanted to get near enough to use her knife," Harry replied after a moment's thought.

"She nearly succeeded.  It was only by chance, and her own _stupidity_, that she failed," Professor Snape observed solemnly, turning to Harry. "You were extremely lucky."

Harry returned Severus' serious look.  "I know."

"Was she planning to _kill _you?" Ginny asked.

"I don't think so. From what I could gather, she wasn't _intending_ to, but she wouldn't lose sleep if she _accidentally_ did."

"So she was going to attack you with a knife because you attacked her brother with one. Nasty," Ron tutted.

"How _apropos_," Professor Snape sneered.

"My brother said the same thing when I told him what I was going to do," Sarah smirked.  "And you would have deserved it for what you put him through."

"_Your brother_ was going to hurt one of _my students_. None of us takes that sort of thing lightly," Harry told her, narrowing his eyes.

"He wasn't going to hurt her."

"That's not what it looked like to me."

"Why did you try to use a legilimens spell on Professor Green?" Albus asked Sarah, interrupting the argument between herself and Harry. Sarah didn't answer. She simply glared at Harry.

"And you were so talkative a minute ago," Ron observed sarcastically.

"She was looking for something," Harry explained, giving Sarah a chilly look.

"That was obvious, but what was she looking for?" Ron asked.

"Her brother was supposed to find a Hogwarts professor and question them – fairly extensively – about how they discovered that it was wizards instigating the muggle violence around London.  He botched the job though and whomever he works for wasn't happy about it.  Sarah thought that since I was with Theresa in the mall and a professor myself, I would have this information. It didn't even occur to her to try and get that information from anyone else.  She seems to have me fixed as her target."

"Who does her brother work for?" Albus asked, slightly vexed.

"She doesn't know.  Her brother didn't tell her."  Harry told the Headmaster before he turned to address Sarah.  "I may have left out the odd detail here and there, but that's about the size of it, isn't it?"

"You think you're so clever don't, you? Well, it doesn't matter because everyone would have read the article by now, so you won't be able to show your face outside of here," Sarah told him smugly.

"You have _no idea _how little I care about what anyone thinks of me.  In fact, you've actually given me the perfect excuse to avoid having to supervise student Hogsmeade weekends.  Harry told her.  The other professors grinned at the wry remark, but Professor Snape looked at his colleague speculatively, his brows knitted together in concentration.

"Damn.  Don't look at me to cover for you," Ron warned him.

"This is all moot anyway.  Once Johnathon's assistant releases her report to the newspapers, everyone will know the truth," Ginny observed.

"Oh?  You think so, do you?  You're so naïve.  People will believe what they want to believe, and a lot of them would rather believe a scandal than whatever's going to be in that report.  There'll still be enough people who will think that Professor Green has a thing for young girls, and that Theresa is a hussy who sleeps with her professors, to make going out difficult for either of them," Sarah told her.

"It's true.  People believe what they want to believe, not necessarily what is true," the Potions Master noted, quietly and coldly.

"You've got a point," Ron muttered, grudgingly.

"I don't know about that," Draco objected.

"Why not?" asked Ron.

"Well, maybe Jason might have a problem, but this might just make Theresa one of the most popular girls in school."

"You think?" Ron was clearly puzzled.

"Yes, I do. I haven't been here for very long, but I think that quite a few of the girls… admire… Professor Green on many, many levels. If they actually believe this cock-and-bull story, I think a lot of them are going to want to talk to the girl who managed to snag him," Draco explained.

In the background, Ginny rolled her eyes at this dizzying leap of logic.

"Oh good.  One _more _thing for her to write home about," Sarah muttered under her breath. "Look, this is all very interesting, but I don't think we have anything further to discuss here, so I'll be leaving."  She leapt to her feet, shouldering her tote bag.  "I believe you have my wand," she said to Harry, holding her hand out.

"Yes, I believe I do," Harry replied calmly.

"I want it back."

"I'm sure you do, but you're not going to get it back," Harry told her, sliding off the desk he was seated on and walking casually toward Sarah.

Before Harry could say anything more, Albus spoke sternly to her.  "I am concerned.  If I were to let you leave the school as you are, there is a good chance that you would harm Theresa. It is certainly clear that you do not like her. There is also every chance that you would reveal Mr. Malfoy's whereabouts to your brother, who, in turn, would give that information to whomever is looking for him.  That would put him at considerable risk and I simply cannot allow that to happen. If that were not enough," he continued, raising his voice and hardening his gaze, "you have publicly released a story that puts one of my professors and one of my students in a very bad light, and you came here today with the intention of _attacking_ my professor. You represent too great a danger for me to allow you to simply walk out of here as you are."

"And you know what?" Ron added, waving his wand menacingly at Sarah. "The Headmaster may have his concerns, but _we _don't take that lightly either. An attack on _one _of us is an attack on _all _of us."  He looked at Harry as he said this, who, in turn, nodded.

Harry was mulling over the problem of what to do about Sarah.  Albus was right, she had become a danger  to too many people and she had to be neutralised.  He didn't want to do anything permanent to her, and he certainly didn't want to hurt her if he could avoid it.  He cringed inwardly at the idea of what he was about to do. He hated the very thought of it, but most of all he hated himself – not so much because he _could _do these sorts of things, but because he _would_.

_Stay focused, stay detached. _ "If I might have a word with you," he inquired of the Headmaster.

"Of course."  Albus led him a short distance away from the group

"What are they up to?" Hermione asked.

"How on earth should _I_ know?"  Ron answered, shrugging his shoulders animatedly.

The two men returned moments later, wearing identical stony expression with their eyes on Sarah, who squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

"You'll be leaving us, but you won't be a threat to anyone – ever again," Harry told her icily. The two men stood some distance in front of her and drew their wands.

"No!" she screamed, leaping out of her seat and trying desperately to escape.  She was grabbed by Draco and Professor Snape, who turned her to face Harry and Albus, and with a firm grip on her arms held her securely between them.

"You were _lucky _today, that's all.  You just got _lucky_!" Sarah threw at Harry, still struggling in Draco's and Severus' strong grip.  "If Theresa hadn't taken the veritaserum… just what kind of person allows a _child_ to take veritaserum?"

"There's nothing particularly dangerous about the serum if it's administered properly," Harry informed Sarah evenly.  "And you're right. I _was_ lucky today."

"You knew that taking the serum was just about the only way to clear your name, and you _still_ wouldn't take it!" Sarah cried.

"Yes."

"You must be hiding something pretty big."

Harry continued to stare at her coldly.

"And even when all the reporters left the room and only you, me and the professors were left here, you _still _wouldn't take it," she hurled viciously at him, in an attempt to distract him from whatever he was about to do.  "You can't have much of a working relationship with them if you don't trust them."

"It's not personal," Harry said, walking closer to her.   "I don't trust _anyone_," he told her in a quiet monotone.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ginny widen her eyes in shock and Ron and Hermione glance at each other. He raised his wand and nodded at Albus, who raised his own wand as if on cue.

Sarah renewed her struggle to break free of the strong grip she was in. "You wouldn't hex me. You might miss and hit one of your friend,." she cried desperately.

Harry tilted his head to one side and gave her a very patronising look. "I assure you, we _won't _miss.

"But –  " Sarah began to protest.

"Obliviate," Harry recited calmly as he threw a powerful memory charm at the frightened woman.

"Confundus." Albus threw his spell at just about the same time as Harry threw his. Both spells hit their intended target, who cried out as she was thrown back against Draco and Severus, who in turn had to take a couple of steps back to steady themselves. A moment later, Sarah passed out and the Potions Master carried her back to her seat and revived her.

"Hello, what's _your _name?" Sarah asked Severus in a child's voice when she came to.

"Don't you remember me?" the professor asked carefully.

"No, but can you help me find my mummy? We were looking for a pretty dress for me to wear on my birthday and now I can't find her." the woman said as she began to cry. Her behaviour tore at Harry's heart.

"Stupefy."

"Draco!" Ginny cried, glaring at her husband, "what did you do _that_ for?"

"I really didn't want to listen to her cry for the next half hour, did you?"

"No, but it really is rather sad the way things had to turn out, isn't it?" she asked, looking at Sarah.

"What did the both of you do?" Hermione asked Albus and Harry.

Harry looked at the professors in the room, gauging their reactions. "We didn't really want to hurt her, but Albus was right.  She was too much of a threat to Theresa, Draco, Severus and myself to just let her walk out of here. It would have been a little difficult to try and erase just her memories of that day in the mall, Theresa's letters and the memories of what she saw and heard here today.  They're just too randomly spread out to be able to pick out those specific ones. Besides, it'd look a bit suspicious if those key memories went missing and the others didn't.  Someone, like her brother, might try to break through the charm if they thought she'd been obliviated." He paused allowing everyone in the room to absorb what he'd said so far, before he continued.

"On the other hand, a general memory charm is too unreliable and not permanent, so Albus and I coupled a  memory charm with a confundus charm.  The enormity of both of the spells hitting her at the same time overwhelmed her mind and it… broke. Her… condition is permanent. She won't be a threat to anyone anymore."

"Good Lord." whispered Hermione.

"She seems to believe she's a child and she doesn't appear to be in any pain," Harry observed.

"But – " Hermione protested.

"It had to be done." he told her flatly. _You've got a point, Greg, there's no point getting angry. That's what happens when I _don't _get angry, though. Just imagine what happens when I _do.He sighed morosely.

"Yes, it had to be done. There really was no other way," Albus said.  Nobody in the room spoke.

"I told Theresa and her brother I'd let them know when we were done here," Draco explained, breaking the silence. "What do you want me to tell them?"

"Tell them that Sarah has become very upset by what she has done here and that she'll be leaving them," Albus instructed, after a moment's thought.  Draco nodded and left the room.

"Ron, Hermione, I'd like you to owl St. Mungo's and ask someone to come here immediately.  Be discreet in your communications."

"Sure," replied Ron.

"We'll be discreet," Hermione assured him.

Harry put his wand back into the waistband of his trousers and ran his hands through his hair – as he normally did when he felt pressured or stressed.  It had been a long day, and it was only just past lunch.

Albus began to rearrange some of the desks in the front part of the room and Ginny went to help Professor Snape pack up the equipment he had brought down to "test" the Ministry's veritaserum.

"Jason," she began curiously, "you told Duncan earlier to ask Theresa why she hates Sarah so much.  I've only spent a few hours with her and _I _hate her, so it's not really surprising that Theresa would hate her, is it?"

"Oh, that."  Harry grimaced as he helped Albus return some of the furniture to its proper place in the room.  "I don't know that it's my place to say anything, but not long after Duncan started dating Sarah, he invited her to his place to meet Theresa. Sarah made a pass at Theresa.  In fact, she invited Theresa to get to know her better…in the bedroom."

"You're kidding! She wanted to sleep with the brother _and _the sister?" Ginny exclaimed in astonishment.

"Apparently so.  Theresa declined the offer and Sarah wasn't very happy with her after that.  It seems that Sarah doesn't hear 'no' for an answer very often… even from her brother."

Ginny's jaw dropped in shock and Professor Snape asked incredulously, "Her brother?"  Harry nodded.

"Oh my God! I grew up with _six _brothers, but I've _never _thought about…ew! I think I need a shower." Ginny exclaimed.

"Sorry," Harry apologised as he laughed at her reaction.

"Ick!" she cried as she gave a final shudder.

"Oh, Albus, I was supposed to take Theresa to the doctor today, but I obviously can't now.  Anyway, I think that you should find someone else to go with her from now on."

"Why should I do that?" Albus asked calmly.

"I think Sarah might have a point.  Regardless of what the Department of Education releases to the public, there will still be people who would rather believe that I took advantage of Theresa.  We might be traveling primarily to get to Theresa's doctor, but we still have to take a portkey out of the village near the school to get to muggle London in the first place."

"I'm sure the report will be thorough enough to clear your name," Ginny offered.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Professor Snape remarked  from where he was tidying and arranging his potion implements.

"Neither am I, but that wasn't my point.  My point was that there isn't any reason to expose Theresa to whatever people might say if they saw us together."

"I don't think Theresa will go with anyone else,"  Albus protested. "She is very shy, but she seems to have grown quite attached to you."

"I was…moved…by what she said this morning." Harry murmured quietly, somewhat embarassed.  "I had no idea she felt that way, and I really don't know that I deserve her praise, but that's half the reason we had such a problem this morning."

"I disagree," Severus protested firmly.

"Why?" Harry asked, curious to know Severus' opinion on the matter.

"Ms. Walter's need for revenge was the reason this all happened.  Theresa's feelings were nothing more than a convenient excuse she could use in order to get near enough to use her knife on you."

"It doesn't help now that these nasty rumours are going to follow Jason and Theresa around though, does it?" Ginny sighed.

"Idle gossip and speculation follow all of us and we cannot hide from it.  If people were not gossiping about whether you were taking advantage of Theresa, they would no doubt find something else to gossip about.  But I take your point. There is no reason to expose her to the gossip any more than we have to," Albus granted.

"I'm sure you'll be able to find someone else to go with her. What about Draco, or Professor Snape?" Harry suggested. "She's comfortable in their company."

 "No.  Since you'll be making Theresa's medication, I feel you  need to be able to listen to what the doctor and the pharmacist have to say concerning it, so you can ask any questions necessary. No one else will be able to do that.  Perhaps I can arrange for Theresa's doctor to come and check on her _here_, that way you will be able to talk to the doctor as well. Although, there is still the problem of exposing Theresa when she goes to pick up her medication from the pharmacist," Albus maintained.

"I'll be able to go down and put the prescription in myself and talk to the pharmacist while I'm there.  That's no problem," Harry told him.

"Very well, once we have finished up here, I will make the arrangements," said Albus.

" Theresa seemed happy with the doctor we saw last, whose aunt was a witch.  He said he'd always wanted to see Hogwarts."

Albus thought about the idea and nodded. "Very well.  I will ask him."

The two men quickly finished rearranging as much of the classroom as they could without disturbing Sarah.  "Do you need me here for anything else?" Harry asked the Headmaster politely.

"I don't think so.  Why?"

"If all of you have everything under control here, and if none of you object, I might head off for some lunch.  I missed breakfast and I'm starving!"

"Yes, of course. We're only waiting for the people from St. Mungo's to arrive."

"Thanks!" Harry called out as he left the room.

"I am glad we were able to get everything sorted," Albus called after him, which made Harry pause and turn around.

"So am I."  With a level gaze at the Albus, he said, "But tell me, Headmaster.  Honestly.  _Did you _think I was taking advantage of Theresa?"

"I do try to keep an open mind about things."

"But you weren't sure... were you?"

Albus paused before answering.  "I didn't think there was anything improper happening between the two of you.  She seems to be fond of you, but I've seen nothing to alarm me."

Harry couldn't fault Albus' reasoning, nor the answer he received.  "Thank you."

Albus nodded as Harry turned and left the room.

"My goodness, you don't often meet people like _him_ do you?" Ginny remarked to Albus, once Harry had left the room.  "I understand that what you both did was necessary, but I'm just not sure that a powerful memory charm wouldn't have done."

"They are generally not powerful charms and, as Professor Green explained, they are seldom permanent,"  Snape explained to Ginny.

"Quite right, Severus.  Remember Gilderoy Lockhart?  He has made remarkable progress toward recovering most of his memories," Albus added.

"That's true," Ginny conceded somewhat.

"Using the two spells together was…inventive," the Potions master observed, carefully choosing his words as he addressed the Headmaster.

"Yes.  We discussed using a memory charm or a confundus spell but neither spell usually has a permanent effect.  Jason's idea to use the two spells at once to overwhelm Sarah's mind was sound in theory, but neither one of us was entirely sure it would work."

Ginny's eyes widened somewhat in surprise. "_Jason's _idea?"

"Yes, it didn't occur to me to use the two spells together like that, but I'm afraid we may have put too much power into them," Albus finished sadly.

"It was necessary," Professor Snape assuredly told the Headmaster.

"Yes, I do believe it was, though I wish it wasn't.  In any case, I will bid you a good day, as I have a certain student that I need to speak to – at some length –  about the virtues of showing appropriate respect for a professor of my staff," Albus  told them grimly.

OOOOO

"Bloody hell! Now I remember why I never let you drive my car!" Tony said as he followed Harry, pale and trembling, into the small pub.

"Come on, don't be such a sissy," Harry replied, grinning back at his friend as they seated themselves at a small table and looked at their menus.

"Speed limits are enforced so that people feel safe…_safe!_ I gotta tell you, I wasn't feeling _safe…_actually, I think I need to change my knickers."

"I knew _exactly_ what I was doing."

"Too bad no one else did… I want my keys back!"

After leaving Albus, Ginny and Professor Snape in the room to wait for the St Mungos staff, Harry left the castle to see if Tony wanted to join him for a late lunch.  It had been a long morning and he didn't particularly want to think about what had happened.

Having lunch with his friend – who also had no connection to Hogwarts or anything magical – would lift his spirits. Harry had checked to see if he was working at the pharmacy, which had only just recently re-opened for business; and when he saw he wasn't on duty, he found him at his home, re-grouting the tiles in the bathroom.  It didn't take much to persuade him to go out for lunch, even though he had already eaten.

"I don't mind having two lunches. I'm a growing boy after all," he'd told him good-naturedly.

"Yeah, right. How about we go the 'Red Lion'?" Harry suggested.

"I'm game, but you'll have to drive because I don't think I've ever been there."

Letting Harry drive his car was one of Tony's bigger mistakes of the day, one he wouldn't repeat when it came time to drive back home.

"So,  how are you doing?" Tony asked once they'd ordered their lunch. He was looking carefully at Harry, but trying not to be too obvious about it.

"I'm _fine_," Harry reassured his friend. Catching the look Tony was giving him, he added, "Really, I'm fine.  Better than I was, I guess.  But how are _you_ doing? I haven't seen you since that day in the hospital."

"I'm doing great.  That herbal stuff you gave me must have been something special and I'm willing to admit that it might not be as much of a waste of time as I've always said it is, but I'm still a pharmaceuticals kind of guy."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Hell no.  Anyway when the doctors saw my test results, they were sure I'd need another transfusion, but it turned out that I didn't need another one after all.  And, I've barely got a scar from the bullet, which really shocked them all.  Look," Tony explained as he undid a few buttons and pulled aside his shirt to show him.

"They're pretty faint."

"Well…yeah, but…you see, women go nuts over scars, right, but mine don't really look too bad, do they?"

_Oh Brother!_ "Well, if you really want a few scars to impress the ladies, I can arrange for you and me to get in the ring sometime and -"

"Ah…no…I'm quite happy with the ones I've got. Thanks anyway," Tony said quickly.  He and "Jason" had been friends for years and "Jason" had told him on a few occasions that he'd had the benefit of some military training. Tony had no intention of being on the receiving end of some of the finer points of that training.

"Are you sure? I mean, I _really _want to be able to help you out, buddy."

"Ah, yes – very sure. The doctors were so impressed with the scar though they took pictures of it and everything. They said I must be really healthy because people don't usually heal so quickly or so well. So there you go, I'm a medical miracle."

"Yeah, whatever. I _told _you those alternative remedies were good for something."

"I guess so. Oh, actually, I've been waiting for you to stop by."

"Aww…you _missed _me!" Harry cried, cheekily tilting his head to the side, batting his eyes at Tony and lacing his fingers together under his chin. "I don't know what to say."

"Stop it!" Tony punched him in mock anger. "There's something you need to know."

"What?" Harry asked, all joking aside.

Their food arrived and Tony waited for the bar waitress to leave them before he continued. "You're being sued," Tony told him, taking a large bite of his hamburger.

"Excuse me? I haven't done anything, so what could anyone be suing me for?"

Tony swallowed his food. "Well, it has to do with the shooting incident in the pharmacy about three weeks ago. It looks like some of the people who were in the pharmacy at the time are suing you. They want compensation for the pain and distress they suffered."

Harry noisily dropped his cutlery and a few of the other patrons looked over to see what the noise was about.

"You can't be serious!" Harry hissed in disbelief when everybody went back about their business."

"I _am_."

"What about the pain and distress _I _suffered.  It was _my _bloody pharmacy that got shot to pieces!" Harry spluttered. "Hang on a minute, you ended up getting shot, are _you _suing me too?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Besides, your employee health scheme paid for everything. Anyhow, it wasn't _your _fault, so why on earth would I sue you?  Look, I haven't done anything,  I mean, it's _your _pharmacy so I didn't want to interfere, but I was going to give the matter over to a lawyer if I didn't hear from you shortly.  You've got to respond to the letters by Thursday."

"Well, I've got public liability insurance, I'll just make their claim off the insurance. The insurers will have a fit when they see what the claim's for and they'll defend the matter themselves. It'll save _me _a lot of time and money."

"Clever," Tony admired.

"No.  I read something like that in the fine print on one of the forms I had to fill out. Remember Richard from uni?  Gary's friend? I think his firm's a bit further up from where we are in the mall. It's called Richard Jackson & Associates…I think…it's something like that, anyway. Could you give all the letters to them and tell them to let whoever's suing me know that they'll have to pursue the claim through the insurance company? Let's see how keen they are after that."

"You'll need to be careful." Tony commented, trying to suppress a grin.

"Why?"

"That news might just _add _to their pain and distress and they might want to sue you for _that _as well."  Harry rolled his eyes at Tony's weak joke.  "Don't worry about it, I'll do it on Monday," Tony assured his friend.

"Thanks," Harry paused and looked at his friend for a moment, an odd expression on his face. "I stopped by the pharmacy to see if you were there today before I tried you at home."

"I thought you might have."

"It looks good by the way, very contemporary."

"I rather like it." Tony agreed.

Harry's insurance completely paid for the renovation of the pharmacy and Harry had left Tony in charge of the work, since he couldn't be there to do it himself. He gave Tony a general idea of what he wanted to be done and let Tony work with that. All in all, he was very impressed with the way the pharmacy looked now.  It had a modern feel to it, which Harry thought was rather a nice touch.

"Anyway, the girls on staff hinted that I should ask you why you're limping."

"Er…did they?" Tony asked, shifting about uncomfortably.

"Yeah…so, why _are _you limping?"

"Oh…well…it's not important."

"No, come on, I'm sure it is.  What happened?"

"Er, well, there was this nurse I had my eye on when I was staying at the hospital and I finally got the courage up to ask her out a few days ago, so I went to visit her to see what time she finished her shift.  We started talking and we were getting along really well. It came up in conversation that I'm a pharmacist…and…well…Damn! I'm no good at this sort of thing and my nerves were just all over the place."

"What happened?" Harry pressed, not letting Tony end the story there.

"I told her where I worked and said she should drop by some time and…I may have also told her…she was welcome to come round any time and check out my…equipment …in the back of the pharmacy." Tony mumbled.

Harry snorted into his drink.

"I only meant she should see the equipment of the trade, but she got pretty angry and kicked me…in my…"

"Equipment?" Harry finished helpfully, trying not to laugh at his friend's misfortune.

"Er…yeah, I guess."

Harry grimaced in sympathetic pain. "Smooth, Tony.  Sometimes I wonder if you still have a little bit of  Cro Magnon in you, somehow managing not to evolve while the rest of your genetic material progressed."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey –  what time does the library at the Uni shut on Saturdays now? Is it still 2:00?" Harry asked out of the blue.

"Um, actually, I think they've extended the hours again. I'm pretty sure it closes at 5:00 now. Why?"

"Oh, I'm just working on something and I've hit a brick wall. I thought I might pop into the library to see if they've got anything that might help, that's all."

OOOOO

The large group crowded into the dark, damp room, quickly dropping to their knees before their Master.

"The preparations are almost complete. All will be ready in a week's time." Their Master hissed, eager in anticipation.

"That is wonderful news, My Lord," a witch cried out.

"Yes, it is. I will only require a few to serve me. The rest of you will be notified once everything is complete," the figure behind the screen instructed in a high-pitched hiss.

"With you permission, My Lord, who will attend?" one young wizard asked, his eyes cast submissively at the floor.

" I have yet to decide. There is still one more thing that must be done," their Master informed them, his voice getting louder and more menacing. "I want you to find the traitors! Find them and kill them!"

The group kneeling before the screen winced and drew back reflexively. "Yes, my Lord. It will be done."

"I want them dead before I complete my preparations! You have failed me too many times…do not fail me this time!"

"N-no, my Lord."

"Now, leave me. I have much to do," their Master dismissed them.

"Yes, my Lord." The robed figures rose and bowed as they all retreated from the room.

"It won't be long now," the shadowy figure behind the screen hissed to himself, "and Albus, I can hardly wait."

OOOOO

"I'm afraid you've caught me on my way out," Harry told the two men who knocked on his door.

"We won't keep you then. We've been doing a bit of research – actually quite a lot of research – on your question about the tonga roots and we just wanted to tell you what we've found," Draco replied.

"We simply came to inform you that so far we have found no answers to your question, but we will continue to look," Professor Snape supplied.

"You both looked for me to tell me that you haven't found anything?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Yep." Draco grinned.

"Oh, er, thank you." Harry stammered. _He was _serious_ when he said he'd research that, _he thought in surprise. The Potions Master nodded once, curtly.

"I've hit a dead end researching as well, so I'm going to try researching from the other end," Harry told them as he stepped out into the hallway, locking – and "arming" – his door behind him.

"I beg your pardon?" Draco asked in confusion as the two men stepped out of his way. "You're going to what?"

"I've been researching whether there's a muggle chemical compound I can create which has properties that are similar or equivalent to the properties of the tonga tree root. I couldn't find anything in any of my books, so I thought I'd head out to the university library to see what I could find there."

"The university?" Draco asked.  "It has books on that sort of thing?"

"The _muggle _university does." Harry replied, trying to suppress a laugh.

"The muggle university library is open on Saturdays?" Professor Snape asked, curiously.

"I was talking to my friend and he said that it closes at five o'clock now, so I've got all day.

Draco and Severus exchanged a quick glance. "We'll come along and help you, if you don't think we'd get in your way.  I mean, you said yourself that pharmacology is the muggle equivalent of potions," Draco offered.

Harry's eyes widened in obvious surprise and he looked at the two men, particularly at Professor Snape.

"What's that look for?" Draco asked.

"It's… well… it just surprises me that you'd want to help me with my research, that's all," Harry addressed the older man.

Professor Snape's face was unreadable as he responded. "Professor Green, I am not helping _you_ so much as I am helping one of the _students_. What you are undertaking involves potions, and as a potions master, I am not without skill in that area. If you could use our help, we will assist."

"Ah, you're helping your _student_, well that makes sense now." Harry said in cheek. "I'm working on an interesting, potentially unsolvable problem. Admit it, you're professional curiosity has been sparked, hasn't it? And you'd love to have an excuse to research in a muggle library, wouldn't you?"

"If you would rather we didn't assist you…" the Potions Master trailed off.  He was a little annoyed that Harry had guessed part of the reason behind the offer of assistance, but Severus' professional curiosity was not his only motivation.

He had been impressed at the way Theresa conducted herself at the investigation into the claims that she and her professor were carrying on a secret relationship. It was clear that the young girl cared about Professor Green, and she set aside her shyness and her own personal feelings to take matters into her own hands, when it became obvious that the professor was going to be ridiculed and exploited by the media. Her actions had raised his opinion of her, and, oddly enough, it had also caused him to once again re-evaluate his opinion of the young man standing before him.

"You're right," Harry began thoughtfully, "it'll probably go much faster with three researchers than with just one.  I'll explain what we'll be looking for when we get there, and I've got plenty of pens and notebooks, but you two need to change into muggle clothes," he told them as he looked closely at them.

"Pens and notebooks?" Draco asked.

"We cannot very well use quills and parchment in a muggle library," Severus said.

"Oh, I didn't think of that. But why do we need to change? If we lose the robes, what's wrong with what we're wearing underneath?" Draco asked defensively.

"Well…the library is a _casual _sort of place.  People don't normally walk around in expensive dress shirts and dress trousers. It's early morning, think _casual._  I'll wait here."

OOOOO

Unconscious bodies littered the floor around the five men. "You all know what to do. We can't botch this one, alright? It'd be more than we're worth to bollocks this up," one of the men said, as he levitated the bodies to a nearby closet and magically locked the door.

"I know what _we're _doing," one young wizard said, indicating himself and the wizard standing next to him, "but why are you three going after this other fellow? That wasn't supposed to be part of the plan."

"It's personal," A stocky wizard told his young comrade grimly. "And anyway, we're all there to help one another out. We'll be helping you, and you'll be helping us," he explained in an attempt to reassure him. "We're all set, so let's do this. No mistakes this time."

OOOOO

"I think I picked up the heaviest stack," Draco complained, grunting under the weight of the books he was carrying.

"You said you wanted to help, didn't you?" Harry asked, also straining under the weight of a stack of books.

"Yeah, but I didn't think this was part of the deal," Draco muttered.

"How much farther is the apparition point?" Professor Snape asked from behind his tower of books.

"Not much farther, I think," Harry told him. The three men couldn't use magic around so many muggles, so they had to carry the books Harry had borrowed all the way to a suitable apparition point before they could take out their wands.

"Just look at it this way though, this is _great _for the upper arms and the stomach muscles," Harry offered.

"Terrific," Draco muttered. "Are we there yet?"

Once Harry had explained to the two men what he needed to research and how to use the library, between the three of them they had found quite a few useful resources, some of which they took notes from and some of which, actually quite a few of which, Harry borrowed.

"Here we are.  Right, nobody's looking, let's go." All three men disappeared with a  sharp crack.

"Ow!" Harry cried.  His stack of books had fallen on top of him when he reappeared at the edge of the small village near Hogwarts.

"We should have thought this through a little more carefully before apparating," Professor Snape grumbled, rubbing at a spot on his head where the corner of one of the books he was carrying had struck him when he reappeared.

"Yes, note to self for the future: a precarious stack of books won't remain stacked after traveling via apparition," Draco observed sarcastically, picking himself up. "We'd better move if we want to make it back before dinner," he told the other two men as he levitated his books and began to walk back to the castle.

"Oh, yeah, dinner!" Harry cried, as he hurried along the path to the castle.

"If I end up with a black eye from where that stupid book hit me, how am I going to explain that to Ginny? She'll never believe me, Draco asked, walking beside Professor Snape.

"You'll think of something. You could always just tell her you got into a fight with someone," the older man suggested, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"No need, that's just what she'll think I've been doing, Draco moaned as he followed behind the potions master. "Those muggles have a weird way of arranging their books, don't they?" Draco asked. "And some of the books weren't even in book form, they were on the computer. Speaking of which, I think I'm going to need a headache potion after looking at that screen for so long."

"It certainly was…different…wasn't it?" Professor Snape noted. "Some of those books were in absolutely appalling condition."

"I noticed that myself. Jason said that's how it is in muggle libraries. They can't use preservation spells on their books like we can and it would just cost too much for them to have every book treated with a preservative.  He said that when the damage gets too bad someone will let the librarian know and it'll be replaced."  Draco threw his friend an odd look.  "You know, we were there all day and you don't notice the weird clothes everyone was wearing, or the funny looking electrical things they all had, but you notice the condition of some of the books. I don't know about you."

Severus just smirked at Draco.

"Gentleman, a moment if you please," Albus called to them as he saw them enter the castle.  They waited for him as he came over to meet them.  "You look like you've had a… productive day."

"Yes, we were just researching and we thought we'd bring some books back with us," Harry explained innocently.

"I see," the Headmaster replied dubiously, looking at Severus and Draco.

"What can we do for you, Headmaster?" Professor Snape asked politely.

"Where are you headed?" Albus enquired.

"We were just going to drop these off in my rooms," Harry replied.

"I'll walk with you.  There is something I need to tell you."

"Of course," Harry replied, as they headed off down one of the many corridors in the school.

"Cornelius Fudge and four of his staff from the Ministry arrived here this morning, just before lunch," Albus began.

"Why?" Draco interrupted.

"They wanted to meet with all of the Hogwarts staff, including Draco and Ginny, who were present at the time the Department of Education's investigation into the truth of the story written in the _Daily Prophet_ was being conducted. It would seem that there are certain formalities that were overlooked in our haste to have the matter resolved last Saturday," Albus informed the three men.  "They have been waiting for your return and are still here. I have invited them to join us in the Great Hall for Dinner.  We will be able to meet in my office after the meal."

"I'm sorry.  I would have let you know that we were heading out but I didn't think we'd be missed." Harry apologised.

"There is no need to apologise. They arrived unexpectedly," Albus said kindly.

"On a _Saturday?_" Harry asked.

"Yes. Many departments of the Ministry operate six days a week.  Since the war ended, the Minister has discovered that there is just as much work to be done _maintaining _peace as there is _fighting _for it.  But I will not keep you.  I will see you at dinner," he called as he headed off in the direction of the Great Hall.

The three men had reached the door to Harry's room and they stood back as Harry "unlocked" his door.

"Nice," Draco admired as he walked inside.

"Where shall I place these…books, Mr. Green?" Professor Snape asked.

"Oh, anywhere in this room is fine," Harry replied, gesturing at the loungeroom and setting his stack of books next to the long couch. "Thank you. You didn't _have _to help me today but I appreciate that you did. I really did get through so much more than I thought I would, so thank you."

Professor Snape inclined his head, and Draco waived away the thanks. "You're welcome."

"No, seriously.  I mean, Draco and I are good researchers but Professor, I think you got through double the research we both did," Harry said in amazement, looking at the stacks of books in his lounge room.

"I enjoy research," Severus stated, simply.

"I can see that," Harry said, still eyeing the impressive number of books he had to look through.

"We'll carry on with our research, but let us know if you make any progress with _your_ research, okay?" Draco said.

"Sure."

"In the meantime, we're going to get dressed for dinner. I'm feeling just a little too _casual_," Draco told Harry with a grimace.

Harry chuckled along with his friend. "I think I might do the same. I'll see you at dinner," he told the two men as he showed them out.

"I think the two of you deserve a medal," Draco told Professor Snape mischievously.

"Oh?" the older man asked, raising an eyebrow at the younger man. "Do you?"

"Yeah. You two spent a whole day with each other and you didn't insult each other or try to kill one another once.  I'm impressed."

"How would you like me to seal your mouth shut – permanently?"

"Ah – no.  I quite like my mouth the way it is."

OOOOO

"What on earth is that thumping noise?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as he took his usual seat at the staff table.

"Oh, who knows?" Ron replied, trying to hide the side of his face from view. "This castle's always making funny sounds – you know, stones settling, that sort of thing."

"Um, Ron, how did you get that black eye?" Harry asked, twisting so he could see what Ron was trying to hide from him.

"Oh… er… it was an accident.   I… walked into something.  It happens to the best of us," Ron answered, grinning weakly. Hermione gave Harry a meaningful look that clearly indicated Ron was lying.

"Oh, come on. That was a big fib and you know it," Ginny rebuked him as she took a seat next to Ron.

"Ginny," Ron whined.

"Ron and I were playing quidditch, just the two of us with Hermione as the scorekeeper," Ginny began to explain.

"So you could see that the whole thing was rigged for Ginny to win from the start," Ron muttered under his breath, earning himself a glare from his wife.

Ginny rolled her eyes and continued. "Well, to cut a very long story short, I'd been hitting bludgers at him all day and he'd managed to dodge most of them, but this last bludger hit him right in the face.  He was out cold for quite a while."  With a glare at her brother, she added, "Normally I'd be worried about the possibility of brain damage if someone took a hit to the head, but in _his _case, I think it's a little late to start worrying."

"How did you manage to let it hit you?" Harry asked, suppressing a grin.

"I had my eyes on the snitch," Ron shrugged.

Harry paused in confusion. "So you could see the snitch?"

"Yes."

"The tiny, fast, almost invisible ball?"

"Yes."

"But you missed the big as life bludger?"

"Yes."

"Does this sort of thing happen often?" Harry asked Hermione and Ginny.

"You'd be surprised," sighed Hermione.

The rest of the students and staff had taken their seats in the Hall and dinner had been served.

"I love weekend roasts," Ginny commented, picking up her cutlery. "Mum does roast dinners on weekends as well.  Maybe she got the idea from her days as a student here," she noted thoughtfully.

"I wonder where our guests are," Albus observed. "Ah, here they are now," he noted as he stood to welcome his five guests from the Ministry who had been shown to the Hall by Professor Sinistra.

Harry watched each of them for a moment before he stood up and quickly drew his wand.

"Stupefy!" he cried, pointing his wand at Minister Fudge.

Everybody in the hall fell silent.  They couldn't believe that Harry had actually stunned the Minister of Magic.

"Jason!" Albus rebuked.

"You go for it! I don't like him either," Ron whispered to his friend.

"Ron! That's the Minister!" Hermione exclaimed in a loud voice, grabbing Harry's wand from his hand.

"No, it's not," Harry told them firmly.


	12. chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or any part of the concept of Harry Potter. They all belong to the talented Ms. Rowling.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and a big thank you to my beta, **Sepia**. Your efforts are greatly appreciated. J

Thank you to **Maxwell Demon **who has lent her artistic talents to the fic. If her pictures haven't been uploaded onto her website yet they will be in a couple of days so please check back then. I can't upload her website address on FFnet but her website address is on my author profile page. I'll try and think of another way to get it in here. Follow the link and then click on "Lady Assassin's" Link.

As a small and shameless plug this story has also been archived at my yahoo site (address on my FFnet profile page) which is just a fun little site for discussions, uploads from members, fan art and for teeny tiny stand alone slash stories that I'm not going to upload to FFnet (there are none up there yet but there will be, and members are more than welcome to upload any of their own). It's very new but if you're interested, I'd love for you to take a small peek. Cheers!

CHAPTER 12

"WHAT?" Ginny exclaimed.

"That fellow on the left is Sarah Walter's brother. I don't know who any of the others are," Harry told them, still standing and glaring at Albus' guests, who dared not physically retaliate.

"This is absurd!" one of the Minister's staff protested. "Do you have any idea what you've done young man?"

"How can you be sure?" Albus asked Harry quietly.

"They're using a standard concealment spell," Harry replied, never taking his eyes off the group before him.

Several of the students had been whispering amongst themselves but stopped when they caught their Headmaster's stern gaze.

"I checked them all myself with a revealing spell this morning before I allowed them into the school, and no concealment spells were detected."

One of the guests had revived 'Minister Fudge', who struggled to get up off the ground. "How _dare _you!" he spluttered.

"Check him now," Harry suggested quietly to Albus, calmly taking his wand back from Hermione, who was busy checking the guests herself.

"What are we doing?"  Draco murmured to the professors around him. Messages were passed quickly up and down the staff table among the professors until everyone at the table had seen for themselves that the five men standing before them were not who they were claiming to be.

"Who are you?" Hermione demanded.

"I am the Minister of –"

"No you're not. Who are you?" Hermione asked in a cold voice, levelling her wand at the men before her.  Filch had begun to move some of the students silently out of the Hall. He had a feeling that it would take something fairly big to make all of the professors stand and point their wands at Minister Fudge and his delegation and he had a feeling that the Hall was the most unsafe place to be right now.

"Come on. Quickly," he told them, hurrying as many of them through the exit hall as he could.

The five guests realised that there was no way they'd be able to bluff their way out of the situation, so they did the only thing they could do – they dove among the body of students, who began to scream and scramble about in panic, effectively ensuring that the staff couldn't get a clear shot at them.

"Try and hit us now!" challenged one of them.

"Okay," said a few of the younger students, trying to be helpful, and throwing stinging hexes at the imposters.  Some of the spells hit their intended targets, but some of the missed and hit other students.

"Bloody kids!" growled one of the men, rubbing his arm. "Right, that does it!" he said, pulling one of the students in front of him, turning her around so that the witches and wizards at the head table could see the fear etched across her face. He restrained her by bracing one of his arms tightly across her neck and with the other hand, pointed his wand directly at her chest. He nodded briefly to his comrades, who did the same, taking other children to use as human shields.

"This is how we're going to do things.  We only have business with a few of you, so the rest of you are going to leave – don't even think about it!" he cried, turning abruptly to the Herbology professor, who had drawn her wand back, ready to throw a spell at the men. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to this pretty little thing, now would we?" he told her, indicating the girl in his grasp. "Everyone's going to lower their wands. _Right now_."

Everybody slowly lowered their wands.

"Good. Now, I want all the students to leave the Hall, immediately.  I don't care where you go, just get out…and if I see anyone even _thinking_ about hexing us, these kids will get it," the imposter threatened, indicating the students that were being held captive by them.

The students began to shuffle quickly out of the hall.  Even the more defiant students obeyed the instructions; the man's tone of voice had left them all in no doubt that these were not idle threats. He had meant every word that he'd said.

"Come on, _move_! I'd like to do this _today_!" bellowed the man who had been doing all of the talking up until now. The students visibly cringed at his eruption, and they hurried their pace, pushing and shoving each other in a mad dash to get to the exit.

Once the students had left the hall, the five bogus ministry officials held their captives closer to them and crouched to hide themselves behind their shields as much as possible. All of the witches and wizards at the head table remained standing, their eyes glued to the imposters before them, anger evident on each of their faces.  They held their wands by their sides, gripping them fiercely in frustration.

"I think we still need to even up the score," Walters, who was posing as Cornelius Fudge, said. "It wasn't supposed to come to this, you know. We were supposed to be able to have a small meeting and pull a few of you aside. Things were supposed to have been taken care of that way. Nothing is ever that easy though, is it? It's a good thing we came prepared with a contingency plan. You just had to force us to do things the _hard _way." He paused to tighten his grip on the struggling girl who was struggling against him. "We want Snape, Malfoy and Green. The rest of you need to leave."

"Which 'Malfoy' do you want?" Ginny asked fiercely.

"We have no business with you…_yet_," one of the men who had remained silent until now told her, punctuating his sentence by looking the red-head up and down suggestively. "It's your turncoat dog of a husband that we want."

"If you lay a hand on her I'll -" Draco began furiously, fighting the urge to attack him with his bare hands.

"Ah-ah-ah. Temper. We wouldn't want this lovely young lady to... _suffer_ for your actions, now would we?"

Draco held himself in check, still fuming silently at the slur on his wife. For some moments, Draco, Ginny and the professors glared at the men impersonating Ministry officials, who stared back.

"They're not _leaving_," one of the men growled to Walter.

"No, they're not are they?" he asked rhetorically, turning to look down at the student in his grasp, smoothing her hair back from her face; a sinister mockery of affection which served to only increase the unease among the staff.

"I thought it might take more than that to make you leave.  Look at you – all sticking together like that.  It's just beautiful," Walter drawled sarcastically, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "Not that _you two_," he paused to nod at Snape and Malfoy, "deserve that kind of loyalty, since you clearly don't know what the word means."

Drawing a deep breath, he continued. "It doesn't matter though, I'm fairly certain you'll all change your mind when I tell you that right now there are two trolls – not one, two – wandering around the castle. I let them in about ten minutes ago, so they could be anywhere by now." He cocked his head to the side, listening for signs of their presence.

"_That's _what that thumping noise was," Harry said aloud.

"Yes, very good professor, top of the class for you,"  Walter mocked him.

Draco, Ginny and the professors looked at each other with some alarm, though some of them still showed signs of doubt about the veracity of Walter's claims.  "How did you manage to let them in?" Professor Sinistra asked them. After the confusion broke out, she made her way back to the staff table to take her place.  "I was with you the whole time while I was showing you to the Hall and you were supervised all day, except while you were in the bathroom, but I don't think you could have managed to let them in from there!"

The man grinned and tightened his grip on the young girl in front of him. "It was such an easy thing. When I used one of your school owls earlier, I told you I was sending a message to the Ministry, but I was actually sending a message to my colleague letting him know that our initial plan had failed and that we needed him to make a contingency arrangement so that we would still be able to carry out our orders. He very kindly arranged for a couple of mountain trolls to be sent to the school."

"How did they get in? Your colleague wouldn't have been able to let them in from outside the school, and _you _couldn't have done it because you were all fully supervised all day!" Professor Sinistra cried.

"_I _didn't let them in, _you _did just before we came here," he told the Astronomy professor.

"_Me_? I would _never _do such a thing," she said, her eyes wide in protest.

"Oh, but you _did_, and you were very cooperative as well, once you were under the Imperius curse."

"I don't remember –"

"Of course you don't. Did you really think we'd let you remember that sort of thing? We obliviated you right away."

The professor couldn't speak for a few moments. "I'm so sorry," she whispered when she found her voice again, unable to look up at anybody.

"There is no need to apologise. You could not help doing what you did, _if_ in fact you actually did it," Albus assured her.

"I let _trolls_ into the school," she continued, her voice barely audible.

The man posing as the Minister noticed the looks some of the professors were giving each other and he rolled his eyes. "You don't _have _to believe me if you don't want to, but I'm sure that you wouldn't risk your students' safety, if there was even the _possibility _that I might be telling the truth."

Albus drew his staff around him. "I do not trust this person in the least.  However, if there is even the smallest chance that there is any truth to this man's claims, we must attend to the safety of our students.  I will need some of you to come with me to look for and subdue the trolls, and to supervise our students.  I will ask that some of you to stay with Severus, Draco and Jason," Albus appealed to his staff.

"Don't leave yourself short staffed. You need all the witches and wizards you can spare to handle the trolls and the students," Draco told the Headmaster.

"We definitely need to even up the odds for you though," Ginny told her husband with fierce determination.

"I'll stay," Ron volunteered.

"As will I," Hermione added.

"_Definitely_ count me in," Ginny told them from between clenched teeth.

"Ginny – _no_," Draco pleaded with his wife.

"Not a chance, I'm not leaving you," she told him firmly.

"I will remain," declared Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, I think I will need you to help co-ordinate our efforts with the trolls. I don't know who is in more danger right now – Severus, Draco and Jason, or the students."

"But Albus –" she protested, but she was interrupted by several loud screams coming from outside.

"The students need you," Professor Snape maintained, coolly eying the group of men before them. Albus looked at Severus as if to ask whether he'd left them with enough support, who simply nodded at the Headmaster.

"Gosh, they don't sound _happy_ do they?" one of the fake delegation asked sarcastically, nodding his head in the direction of the students outside.

"Come and get me when you are done in here. I have some questions I would like answered," Albus threw over his shoulder as he led the rest of his staff out of the Hall.

"Old man, they're not going to be _able _to come and get you," Walter observed smugly.

"We shall see," Albus replied evenly. Before he left the Hall, he threw a final look behind him. "You will let my students go now. You can no longer have any need for them."

The five imposters looked at each other, and as one, released their hostages.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry threw at Walter, taking his chances and not waiting for the students to be fully clear of the men before he threw his spell. Walter's wand flew into Harry's hands and he snapped it without missing a beat. Some of the others took their cue from Harry and tried to disarm the men as well, but after having witnessed Walter lose his wand, they tightened their grip on their own.

The five men hadn't expected anyone to attack so quickly, but Harry's onslaught spurred everyone in the room into action. Draco, Ginny and the professors bombarded their opponents with a barrage of spells and hexes, and they took cover behind some of the overturned student tables. Those at the staff table took this opportunity to flip some of their tables onto their side so they could have something solid to hide behind as well. 

"Shit!" muttered Ron when he heard one of the men magically lock the doors leading into the Hall.

"Hey!" Harry yelled out to them. "Why don't you get rid of those ridiculous disguises? We know you're only pretending to be whoever you are so it's useless now, isn't it?"

Harry's suggestion was met with silence.

"If it was me, it'd be a matter of pride to fight my opponent as I am, without disguises," Harry told them. _Oh boy, are you one to talk 'Jason', _he silently berated himself.

The counterfeit Ministry officials looked at one another and shrugged, pointing their wands at themselves and removing their concealment spells: but Harry didn't make the suggestion because he wanted to see the faces of the men in front of him. While they were busy removing the spells, he lobbed some of the school cutlery and dinnerware that had fallen to the floor, over at them.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Easier than aiming a spell over and around the bloody table," Harry replied, without pausing in what he was doing.

Some of the other professors followed suit and by the time the concealment spells had been lifted; some of the other men were sporting gashes or bruises where they had been hit by the flying cutlery.

"Friends of anyone's?" Ron asked, ducking back down behind the table.

"From the right, Blair, David, Francis, Mitchell and we all know Walter. Old acquaintances of mine," Draco supplied coolly.

"Merlin's bloody balls!" cried Francis, "We're wizards. We don't fight with cups and plates, we fight with magic, like this!" he cried as he lifted himself over the barricade just enough to be able to use his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he cried and raised one of the staff tables into the air, exposing Ginny to the spells of the Blair and David, who cried "Stupefy" together.

She was thrown back by the combined force of both of the spells.

"Ginny!" Draco cried out. He knew that couldn't go over to her because it was simply too dangerous at the moment.

"Stay where you are. She is far enough out of the way that she should be safe, for now," Professor Snape instructed.

"Perhaps," Draco replied, clenching and unclenching his jaw angrily. "But one good turn definitely deserves another, wouldn't you agree?" he asked Severus, tightening his grip on his wand.

The older man looked piercingly at his young comrade. "Indeed, I would."

As one, Draco and Severus rose up slightly over their barricade and each levelled a powerful hex at Blair and David. The combined strength of their spells was so great that the table they were hiding behind splintered into pieces and sent the two men flying back into the wall behind them.

"We're heading over, watch our backs," Draco called to the people next to him, before he and Severus jumped over the staff table and out into the open.

"Avada –" Francis began, but he was interrupted by Hermione.

"Expelliarmus!" she cried, but Francis's wand stayed in his hand.

"Not this time, sweetheart," he smirked as he threw a hex back at Hermione. The spell hit the table Hermione was hiding behind and left a gaping hole in the makeshift barricade. Hermione wasted no time in scrambling out from behind the table and returning the favour, decimating his own wooden shield.

"Bitch!" the man yelled out, engaging Hermione in a furious exchange of hexes and curses. It was difficult to tell who had the upper hand. Each time Hermione pushed Francis back with the force of her spells, he managed to force her advantage back.

"Watch out, Hermione!" Ron called to his wife, stealing a glance at her and watching as she narrowly avoided being hexed. Ron could only steal momentary glimpses of his wife's battle because he was busy duelling with Francis's colleague, Mitchell.

Hermione had initially tried to disarm her opponent, but Ron had tried to stun his own. A wizard _without _a wand might be less of a threat than a wizard _with _a wand, but an unconscious wizard was harmless. Unfortunately, Mitchell deftly rolled out of the way of the curse and deflected Ron's next spell.

You're a disgrace. I'm not even _trying_," Mitchell snarled as he deflected another curse from Ron and ran forward, engaging Ron in a duel so intense that they seemed lost among the spells they were throwing at each other.

Hermione screamed and Ron turned his head. She had been steadily gaining the upper hand in her duel, but she had misjudged her opponent. He had feinted right and Hermione reacted instantly to deflect a spell that hadn't been thrown. Her opponent took advantage of the fact that she was out of position, and then threw a real spell at her, which she was unable to block and which threw her back across the room. She hit her head hard on the end of one of the tables, and was knocked out instantly.

Hermione may have been caught off guard, but Ron broke the Golden Rule of duelling – he took his eyes off his opponent. Mitchell took advantage of _his _opening to throw the Cruciatus curse at Ron, who fell to the ground, screaming in agony. Once the spell wore off, he rendered Ron helpless by putting him into a full body bind.

"Now stay out of my way, you pathetic excuse for a wizard," he growled.

He quickly scanned the room for another target. Blair and David appeared to have the upper hand in their respective fights, but Walter had allowed his opponent to get the better of him.

"Over here!" Walter called from where he was pinned beneath Harry.

"I should have known you'd manage to botch this mission up as well," Mitchell muttered under his breath before hurrying off to assist his comrade.

OOOOO

Harry had watched Draco and Severus send Blair and David flying back into the wall behind them with an audible "thud", and he watched the men sink painfully to the floor. _Ooh, that's going to bruise in the morning,_ Harry grinned.

He heard a loud bang from outside the Hall followed by a chorus of high pitched screams and he sent up a silent prayer, hoping that the staff and the students outside the room were alright before he turned his attention back to what was happening before him. Ron and Hermione had engaged two of the men in battle and Draco and Severus were busy with David and Blair, which had left Harry wondering where Walter was.

He didn't need to wait long to find out, because a pair of hands wrapped themselves around his throat and he was thrown to the floor, on his back: a heavy weight crushing him. Harry couldn't see who was attacking him, but he could certainly feel them. He reached up to try and remove the hands from around his throat, but to no avail. Whoever had him in their grasp had the advantage of surprise and the law of gravity on their side, applying pressure to his neck when they leaned down from above. Harry was at a significant disadvantage, trying to push up from the ground to defend himself.

Harry's brain kicked into gear and he drew his wand up to aim in the general direction of whatever was sitting on him. The hands around his throat tightened and he thought his eyes were going to burst from the pressure. His head was pounding and he was sure he was turning blue, but he managed to choke out, "Incendio."

Something caught fire above him and it quickly leapt off Harry and rolled around on the ground beside him, trying to put itself out. Harry backed away from his attacker, gulping in deep breaths of air, and putting out the patch of flames on his sleeve. Once he had put the fire out, his hands found his throat and he touched it gingerly. It already felt bruised and swollen.

"Son of a bitch!"  Walter growled, staring with chagrin at the pile of ashes that used to be his invisibility cloak. 

"I'd wondered where you'd gone to," Harry noted huskily, still trying to regain his breath. He gripped his wand tightly, rising to his feet and staring coolly at the man before him. "That was clever with the cloak and the surprise attack, I'll give you that."

"Shut up! You cost me my cloak!"

"That's too bad," Harry said, dodging the dish that Walter threw at him and easily blocking the punch that followed.

"There's _still _something wrong with this picture," he snarled

"Oh?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," he replied as he leaned forward and aimed a punch at Harry's jaw which he easily dodged, and then aimed a kick to Harry's wrist which Harry didn't dodge and which sent his wand skittering harmlessly across the floor, rolling too far away for Harry to safely make a lunge for it. Harry had expected him to attack the major areas of his body, not his wrist. _Stupid Potter! Should have seen that one coming a mile off! Your bloody brain's gone mushy!_

The two men circled each other, never taking their eyes from one another. Walter was clearly angry and agitated, but to all outward appearances, Harry remained cool and calm. He had learned a long time ago that getting angry in battle would disrupt his ability to think clearly which could ultimately get himself – and the people around him – killed.

"See this?" Walter asked, holding up his hand for Harry to see.

"What, your hand?" Harry asked dryly, enjoying annoying the other man.

"No, the scar in the middle of it. It should look familiar, since you gave it to me."

"Oh, yes, so I did," Harry replied conversationally, remembering back to the day in the pharmacy when Walter had tried to grab Theresa and Harry had lodged a knife in his hand to stop him. The scar must have been a result of that injury, though he had to admit that as far as scars went, it _was_ quite impressive.

"Oh, and don't think I don't know that you did something to my sister. I saw her just before she went to meet with you and a few hours later St Mungo's owled me, saying they had her with them. Whatever it was you did to her, you're going to regret it," Walter told him, punctuating his statement by picking up a carving knife that lay strewn among the tableware, and running at Harry with it, determined to stab him.

Harry stared calmly back at the agitated blond. He was glad Walter was a talker; it made it so much easier to predict when he was going to attack. People who talked during a fight tended to punctuate their statements with action, and there was always a particular tone of voice they used just before they began their attack. So, Harry was ready for it. He caught the blade between the palms of his hand as it descended down upon him. It was difficult to tell who would win the contest of strength. Both men seemed not to be moving as they looked at the blade, but Harry was doing his best to keep it away from him and Walter was doing his best to stab him.

With a yell of exertion, Harry moved his hands to the left and moved the rest of his body to the right. The blade sliced into his hands, but he was willing to sustain such a minor injury if it meant that he would avoid being killed.  When the blade was pointing away from his body he released his grip on it, and as his adversary's momentum carried him forward, Harry punched him just below his ribs, winding him. His opponent dropped his knife and Harry quickly kicked it beyond reach.

He could have used his magic, but he found it much more satisfying to physically beat his opponent into the ground. Walter had been a thorn in Harry's side that just refused to go away, no matter how much he ignored it. First, there was the incident at the pharmacy, then there was Sarah's attempt to use him as a cutting board and then there was this final incident, all of which had caused him – and people around him – varying amounts of pain and injury. Harry wasn't just peeved anymore – he was royally pissed.

Walter recovered quickly and kicked Harry's legs out from under him, causing him to fall to the floor.

"You're not the only nimble one here," Walter smirked in triumph. He pounced on Harry, pinning him beneath his weight as Harry tried in vain to roll out of the way. Before Harry could recover from having the wind knocked out of him, he was punched – hard – in the face. His head reeled back and he was punched again, taking another blow to his head.

He heard a crack after he felt the second blow and his eyes watered. "That's twice you've had me like this. People are going to start making up stories about us if we're not careful," Harry observed slyly, referring to their current positions.

Walter might have been a heavier man than Harry, but Harry was his superior in strength. Once he freed one of his legs, he wrapped it around the other man's back to give him the leverage he needed to flip them both over, so that now he was on top and Walter was beneath him. He straddled his waist and pinned Walter's wrists to the ground with his knees, putting his weight on them to make sure Walter couldn't hit him.

Harry could have ended it right there and stunned his opponent, but his head was reeling from the blows he received a minute ago and he decided that Walter deserved a little of the same treatment.

_Crack!_ Harry swung a heavy blow at one side of his opponent's face. "_That's _for the day in the pharmacy."

_Thwack!_ Harry delivered a stinging blow to the other side of his face. "_That's _for sending your sister in here with a knife," Harry told him calmly.

_Crunch!_ Harry swung his fist at the other man's jaw. "_That's _for what you've done in here today."

_Smack!_ Harry threw a heavy punch at the other side of his jaw. Walter spat up blood and it sprayed across the floor and Harry's arm.  "And _that's _for sending trolls after _children_."

Walter's head lolled about on his neck and he scanned the room in an unfocussed daze, trying to see what the rest of his comrades were doing. Noticing that Francis and Mitchell had overcome their opponents he called out to them.

"Over here!" he yelled weakly.

"Shit," Harry muttered, punching Walter hard across the temple and knocking him out.

"What the hell did you do?!" Francis cried out, throwing a slashing hex at Harry who had quickly leapt off Walter.

Harry dodged the spells being thrown at him as he ran across the room to where his wand lay on the ground and he dove to retrieve it, rolling as he hit the ground and came to a kneeling position facing his opponents in one swift movement. In hindsight, Harry realised that he really should have cast a defensive shield about himself _before _he ran to pick up his wand, because as he came out of his dive and faced his opponents, he narrowly managed to avoid being hit by a couple of nasty hexes. There isn't too much time to think during a fight though, and everybody's a genius in hindsight.

While Mitchell was trying to stun Harry, Francis picked up a carving knife that had fallen to the ground when the student tables had been overturned, flipped it so he held it by the blade between his thumb and forefinger, and flung it at Harry who moved quickly to the side to avoid it. Unfortunately, he moved right into the path of the Cruciatus curse that Mitchell threw at him moments after Francis threw his knife.

Harry was thrown flat on his back, his wand flying from his hand. His whole body trembled and his eyes rolled back in his head. He screamed as pain ravaged every part of his body and his eyes watered. His surroundings slowly came back into focus as the pain began to lessen and when he looked around him he noticed that someone – he couldn't tell who – had their wand raised and pointed at Draco and Severus, ready to level a hex at them.

"Oh, hell!" Harry muttered as he felt around him for his wand. His hand landed on a knife and he held it by the blade, desperately trying to see exactly what he was aiming at. _Concentrate, Potter, _he thought, exhaling sharply as he threw the knife.

"Avada-" Mitchell began.

"Oh no you don't. Crucio!" Francis cried as he saw Harry raise the blade, but he wasn't quick enough. Harry managed to throw the knife before Francis threw his curse, and Mitchell toppled face forward to the ground.

Harry lay trembling on the ground and gasping for breath as the effects of the second Cruciatus spell wore off. He wasn't sure if he'd actually managed to stop Mitchell from casting his spell, because he was still trying to bring the world back into focus when he'd thrown the blade.

When Harry's surroundings came back into focus and the pain that ravaged his body began to lessen, he gingerly picked himself up as quickly as he could and he retrieved his wand. He half stood, half crouched, wand held expertly low in his hand and every part of his body shaking from the after-effects of the curses. Francis was staring open mouthed at his colleague, who lay on the ground, the hilt of the knife protruding from the space between his shoulder blades. No one needed to check him to know he was dead. Francis realised for the first time that though he knew very little about his opponent, he may have made the mistake of underestimating him.

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_ Harry inwardly groaned, but he didn't have time to chastise himself. Francis threw a hex at him, which he dodged and he retaliated by throwing two powerful slashing hexes, one following a split second after the other so it looked like he had thrown only one spell. His opponent deflected the first spell, but wasn't aware that there was another spell behind that one and he was thrown back a little from the impact of the spell. He touched the large gash on his cheek where the spell had hit him and looked at Harry in confusion, wondering what had happened.

Shaking his head to clear it, he cast a quick glance at Hermione who lay on the ground a short distance from him. Casting an evil smirk at Harry, he pointed his wand at her.

"Avada-" Harry threw a stunning spell at him which he managed to dodge, and he swivelled around pointing his wand at Harry. Harry's eyes widened at his opponent's change of intent mid-curse, but more so because directly behind Francis he saw Professor Snape throw, of all things, a platter.  The platter was on a direct course for Francis' head; unfortunately the second stop on its path was Harry's. Francis heard Snape approaching so he was able to duck the attack; luckily, so was Harry.

The imposter wasted no more time before finishing the spell. "Kedavra!" he cried and flung the spell at Harry.

OOOOO

Draco and Severus had found themselves at a rather significant disadvantage from the outset of their fight because their opponents were doing their level best to kill them. On the other hand, the former spies were only trying to stun their opponents; who were having a slightly easier time of things since they could stand where they were and deflect some of the spells, and cast Unforgivables as they saw fit.

"Just die already," David snarled as he ducked one of Professor Snape's curses and threw one of his own back.

"We have to do something. I don't know how much longer I can do this for. If we weren't out in the open like this it'd be a different matter," Draco called out to his friend, who was only a short distance away.

"Avada-" they heard from behind them, followed by a heavy thud. Not willing to take their eyes completely from their opponents, they half-turned to see the man Draco knew as Mitchell face down on the ground, the handle of one of the school's knives protruding from his back. There was a momentary pause as all four men stopped to register what had happened.

"Son of a bitch!" yelled Blair as he and his comrade renewed their attack.

Severus dove to the ground near Draco. "I've got an idea."

"Good," Draco grunted as the Potions Master took a page from 'Professor Green's' book and threw simple restraining rings of white light at his opponent which quickly found its target and bound it to the wall behind him. Blair turned his back to Draco and Professor Snape to see what had happened, giving the two men the opening they needed to stun their opponents.

"Stupefy," they cried, almost in unison and both men were unconscious before they realised what had happened."

"Aauggh! Damn!" Draco cried, clapping his hands over his eyes and dropping to his knees.

"What is it?" Professor Snape asked in alarm.

"My eyes!" Draco managed to say.

"Your eyes? What did he do to –" the Potions Master sighed, realisation dawning on him as he massaged his forehead with his free hand. "Those are binding rings of _light_, why did you look directly at them?"

"I was curious to know what you did, that's all," Draco told him, trying to defend his lack of common sense. He got up and tried to walk toward his friend, but stumbled into him instead, sending them both sprawling to the ground and sending Severus' wand skittering out of his hand.

"Stop moving. Stop. I will stand up and then I will help you stand. What happened to my wand?" Severus asked irritably.

"What's this?" Draco asked.

"That is _your _wand."

"Oh."

"How's Jason doing?"

"He is fine. He – stay here," the older man told Draco, trying to stand up.

"What? What's happening?" Draco called out, but he didn't receive any answer.

Professor Snape had looked over in time to see Francis dodge one of Harry's spells while pointing his wand at Hermione's unconscious form. He and Draco hadn't been fighting too far away from Harry and Francis and he heard Francis begin to utter the incantation for the killing curse.

_Damn_! He thought. He hadn't been able to find his wand, but there were plenty of things on the ground that he could pick up and throw.

As he moved closer, he saw Francis swivel around and move his wand so that it now pointed at Harry. _It was a trick. He was going to throw it at him all along! _Severus realised as he stopped and threw a rather heavy looking platter at Francis' head.

But Francis could hear his footsteps though and had turned around in time to see the attack and duck it.. Francis wasted no more time before he finished his spell.

Harry wasn't certain that he could dodge the attack. He sighed heavily, preparing to move – and then grunted as Professor Snape tackled him to the floor and Francis's curse flew harmlessly over both their heads.

A second after he and Severus hit the ground, he threw two stunning spells, sending the second a split second after the first. Francis was able to deflect the first one, but not the second. He landed on his back across the room with an audible thud, his wand rolling out of his hand.

Harry continued to watch Francis for a short time, and when he was satisfied that he wouldn't be getting back up any time soon, he exhaled in relief and let his head fall back against the floor.

"Thank you," he gasped to Professor Snape, trying to recover his breath.

"There is no need…" the professor began, looking down at the young man for the first time. He had never thought that there was anything particularly outstanding about the way the young professor looked, but when he looked down, his breath caught in his throat when he saw the raw emotion in his eyes.

"Hey, are you alright? What's going on?" Draco called out from where he was sitting on the floor, his elbows on his raised knees and his head in his hands.

Harry looked back up at the professor, whose eyes continued to search his own in a gaze so intense it sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"Guys! Are you alright?" Draco asked again, a little more concerned.

Harry blinked and threw his guard back up, hiding his conflicting emotions behind an unreadable mask. Severus sighed at the loss. "We are fine," he called out to Draco, carefully removing himself from where he had landed on top of Harry. The young man watched him cautiously.

"I think Severus and I owe you our thanks," Draco said to Harry.

"And I owe you _my _thanks," he said quietly to Professor Snape, still trying to catch his breath. His limbs were trembling slightly but he wasn't certain that the Cruciatus curse was entirely to blame for that.

"I have lost track of who should be thanking who today. As such, you needn't thank me," Severus said quietly, also trying to recover his breath.

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and lifted himself up so that he could look around the room.

"Is that your spell?" Harry asked Severus, nodding in the direction of the bright light but being careful not to look directly at it.

"Yes."

"Would you mind getting rid of the light? It's not helping my headache." 

"Or mine," Draco complained, holding his head.

"I do not have my wand with me, so I cannot," Severus admitted.

"Would you mind if I…" Harry trailed off, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the light with his wand.

"Not at all," Severus invited.

"Oh, for Heaven sake! Don't worry about asking him, just turn the bloody light off!" the young blond cried out.

"It isn't polite to go ahead and undo a colleague's spell work without their permission," Harry explained to Draco while he removed the light from the restraints that bound one of the imposters.

"It's also impolite to turn your friend's hair blue while they're drunk," Draco said, guessing where Harry was and throwing a glare in his direction.

"That was different," Harry threw back. He walked over to his friend and crouched down beside him. "What happened? No, hang on, don't tell me. You looked at the light, didn't you?"

"I didn't mean to, and I didn't stare at it or anything, I just sort of glanced for a couple of seconds."

"Well, you'll be fine in about half an hour, but you're going to have one hell of a headache," Harry explained to him.

"Too late," Draco muttered.

"The professor will have something to get rid of that, so you'll be fine," Harry reassured him.

Harry surveyed the damage done to the room and let his eyes rest on Mitchell's body. Harry's old instructor's voice rang inside his head; _Sometimes__ it's kill or be killed..._.

"Get a grip, anyone would think you'd be used to this by now, all things considered," he mumbled very quietly to himself.

"Hmm?" Draco asked, wondering what Harry was mumbling, but Harry didn't answer him. He simply rose to his feet and walked over to the body, crouching down and carefully checking for a pulse, though he already knew that he wouldn't find one.

"I think it is safe to say that he is dead," Professor Snape observed as he came to stand on the other side of the body.

"Yes," Harry replied, pulling the knife out of the body and placing it down on the floor beside him.

"He tried to throw the killing curse at you and Draco while your backs were turned,"  Harry explained.

"I am not questioning your motive."

"I know that, but I don't want anyone to be in any doubt that I _did not _intend to kill him – I only wanted to deter him from doing what he was going to do."

"You didn't need to explain," Professor Snape told him.

"Maybe not, but I _wanted_ to," said Harry before he turned and moved off to help Ginny, Ron and Hermione, seeming to sway a little on his feet.

"How many times were you hit with the Cruciatus curse?" Professor Snape asked, watching him carefully.

Harry paused. "Twice," he admitted, turning to face the Potions Master.

"Come to my rooms after we finish up here, I have a strong calming draught that will help you. I can also give Draco a headache draught."

"Sweet relief!" sighed Draco. "Oh, by the way Severus, I've found your wand," he added, pulling the wand out from under his leg and holding it up.

Harry nodded at the professor and looked toward the door to the Hall. "I can't hear anything from outside, can you?" Harry asked, tilting his head to one side to listen for sounds of students or teachers or even trolls.

"I can hear the students, but I can't hear any screaming, so that's a good sign," Draco observed.

"I'll revive Ron, Hermione and Ginny if Professor Snape wants to call Albus and the other professors back in," Harry told him.

"Wait!" Draco called out from where he was."

"What?" Harry asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh…nothing…really…but I think I…owe you an explanation."

"We've talked about _this_," the Potions Master told Draco quietly.

"We put him at risk today, and probably on a few other occasions as well, and it's only fair that he knows why."

"I disagree."  Snape's answer was somewhat terse.

"We were targeted because of _what we were_, and he saved our lives – again. He's involved now, and has been since he saved your life on Christmas evening, and he should know why we keep putting him at risk."

"He was a target today as well."

"But he still saved at least one our lives today and suffered the Cruciatus for it – twice. And he's been involved the other times when people were looking for us."

"We didn't ask for his help." Severus knew this was unfair, but the Slytherin in him fought to protect his privacy.

"No, we didn't," Draco told him, giving the older man a chastising look. "But he gave it to us anyway." Severus turned away from Draco, unwilling to admit that the younger man had a point. "Look, he's a member of the Order now. The rest of the Order knows about us, so why shouldn't he?"

"How do you know we can trust him?"

"We may not be in the middle of a war anymore, but it's becoming clear that people are looking for us. If he's going to be associating with us and working with us in the Order, he needs to know. In any case, he's been risking his neck for us whether he wanted to or not. I think an explanation is in order."

"You didn't answer my question," Professor Snape reminded him.

"Fine. I'm not a hundred percent certain I can trust him, but I think I can. He understands things – which few people ever really do – so I think he can be trusted. Besides, we both know he can keep a secret, right?" Draco told his friend lightly.

"I am not altogether pleased with your decision, but I will not argue it any further," the Potions Master told his friend in a low, quiet voice.

"I suggest you find a seat, you're going to need it," Draco called out to Harry, who had stood some distance away from the two men while they argued between themselves.

"Oh, you've finished talking about me, then?" Harry called back, fatigue and pain beginning to deteriorate his temper. He walked over to the two men and sat on one of the benches his students normally occupied at meal times.

"Where is he?" Draco asked Severus.

"He's about five feet in front of you," Harry told Draco, dryly.

"There's something you need to know," Draco told his friend as he cast a silencing charm over the Hall. Severus added his spell to Draco's.

Harry watched as Draco undid the cuffs of his dress shirt and pushed back his left sleeve, holding his forearm out for Harry to see. For his part, Harry already knew that Draco had been a Death Eater and the revelation didn't surprise him. What _did _surprise him was the fact that Draco was going to offer an explanation, and that Severus was going to _let_ him.  The Draco he was friends with now was nothing like the Draco that Harry remembered from school, and he was curious to know what had motivated such a change in him.

Harry blinked at Draco and Severus. "And?" he prompted.

"Aren't you shocked, disgusted, stunned – all of the above?" Draco asked him, unprepared for his reaction.

Harry sighed. "Certain rumours have been circulating around the school for some time now. I'm not deaf and it's hard for me not to hear them when some of the students are gossiping in front of me in the hallways…I _suspected_ that they _might _have been true, but I wasn't sure."

"So now you're sure."

"Yes. I assume that Professor Snape has the same mark on _his _arm as well."

"Yes," the older man answered coldly.

"The men that came here this evening all used to be Death Eaters and they came to kill us because we were 'disloyal' to the Dark Lord. It's not actually public knowledge that we spied for Albus. After Voldemort was destroyed a lot of Death Eaters claimed to have seen the error of their ways. We just kept quiet and let people assume we did the same thing. Just about the only people who know we were spies are the Order members," Draco explained.

"But Voldemort was defeated _years _ago. Why attack now? Why not earlier?" Harry asked.

"We don't know," Professor Snape replied broodingly.

"You're not working for the Death Eaters now, though, are you?" Harry asked, more to keep the conversation going than for any other reason, since he already knew the answer to the question.

"No," Draco told him firmly. "Absolutely not, neither one of us. I'm sure you're curious to know why I joined in the first place and what made me change my mind, though."

"Well, yes, but it's none of my business,"  Harry told Draco honestly.

"You're involved now, so it _is _your business," Draco reassured him. He paused and drew a deep breath before continuing. "I think I took the mark because I believed it would give me what I was seeking, and because it was expected of me. The Malfoys are all pure blooded wizards and witches, every single one of us. I was just like my father – proud and arrogant. We both looked down on just about _everyone_, not just half-bloods and muggle-borns. My father was a Death Eater in Voldemort's inner circle but after he was thrown into Azkaban, I was invited to join. People were afraid of the Death Eaters and I thought that joining and having people fear me was what I wanted. I thought it was an opportunity to grab onto real power and to be able to command some real respect. I won't pretend that some of the things I did as a Death Eater weren't terrible – even horrific – but this sort of thing came with the territory, and if you couldn't handle it, you weren't worthy of being a Death Eater.

"It wasn't exactly a picnic working for Voldemort – you have to understand that failure was always severely punished – but that was a price I was willing to pay in return for being part of a group that was both admired and feared.

"I don't know exactly what made me change the way I felt. It could have been a lot of things, but personally, I think it was Ginny."

"Ginny?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yeah. There was this one time I'd found Hermione sitting by herself by the school lake and I was being a right prat to her about being a muggle born. Hermione always played by the rules at school and she wasn't going to hex me unless I hexed her first, which I had no intention of doing. I just planned to rough her up a little bit. Ginny found us and when she saw what I was doing, she didn't bother pulling out her wand, she just punched me square in the jaw. You'd be surprised at how strong she is; I thought my head was going to fly off my shoulders.

"I asked her what she thought she was doing and she told me that she was making sure I couldn't lay another hand on her friend. When I told her that she was going to end up getting hurt, she just glared at me and said she didn't care, and that I shouldn't be so sure of myself," Draco explained.

_That sounds like something Ginny would do_, Harry thought, remembering how strong willed she'd become during her fourth year.

"Ron, Hermione and Ginny were friends with Harry Potter and they all seemed absolutely devoted to each other. They had these…bonds I guess…and I'd never seen anything like it. My parents never felt that way about me and the death eaters weren't loyal to anyone, not even each other. They only gave their loyalty to Voldemort out of fear, but when Voldemort was thought to have died about twenty five years ago, and when he actually died about eight years ago, a lot of Death Eaters betrayed him – and each other – to save themselves. Actually, I'm fairly certain that if my father could have found a way to have me take his place in Azkaban, he would have done it.

"I'd been watching Ginny and her friends all look out for each other for years and, when I thought about it, that's what I really wanted. My parents didn't love me like that and I didn't actually have any friends – it also didn't help that I'd had certain feelings for Ginny for a little while by then. They were such a close knit group of friends and eventually they let me in – after I'd stopped acting like a prat and thinking that pure bloods were better than muggle-borns. Hermione's muggle born and I couldn't ask for a more wonderful sister-in-law.

"Anyway, not long after that day when Ginny punched me, I went to Albus. I told him everything and asked if he could think of a way for me to be able to leave the circle of Death Eaters that didn't involve me dying. He called Severus into the room and I took veritaserum and answered their questions. Albus asked me if I'd be willing to pass information about Voldemort's plans along to him. I was shocked and I asked him why he wasn't going to turn me in, because after all, I deserved nothing less. He told me that there wasn't any point judging people on what they'd done because that was all over and done with and it was what they intended to do that was important. He said that _I _was a _good person _and that I'd done the right thing by coming to him."

Draco paused and looked at Harry, "I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried. With all the things I'd done, I didn't deserve his, or anyone's, good opinion. He told me that he couldn't think of a way that I could leave the death eaters, but he offered me the chance to pass information along to him.

"No one had ever thought well of me before that – ever – and I desperately wanted to feel like I deserved Albus' good opinion.  So I agreed, and I joined Severus as a spy for Albus' Order."

"You were a spy as well?" Harry asked the older man, more for effect than anything else, because 'Jason' could not have known this.

"Yes, he'd been spying for years before I joined him," Draco explained.

"Such a long time, you must have been very good," Harry observed to the Potions Master.

"I was," he replied simply.

Harry fiddled with his wand, rolling it back and forth between his hands as he absorbed the information that Draco had just volunteered.

"I appreciate that I was curious about why you joined in the first place, but I would have respected your privacy if you'd refused to tell me. All I really needed to know was that you were both Death Eaters but you turned spy for Albus," Harry told him.

"Would you have believed me?" Draco asked.

"I might have," Harry replied evenly.

"I thought there would have been more chance of having you believe that we didn't work for Voldemort if I didn't try to hide anything. Just about everyone in the Order knows what you know, well, the parts that are important – they don't know the bit about Ginny – so it seemed fair that you should know as well."

Harry nodded slowly at him.

"I can understand that you don't know what to think about us right now, but I've been completely honest. If you want to distance yourself from me, I'll understand. I just thought you should know," Draco sighed.

"So, if I've got this right, you joined the Death Eaters when you were still in school."

"Yes."

"But you eventually realised that that's not what you wanted and you started fighting for Albus' Order and opposing Voldemort."

"Yes," Draco all but whispered, his eyes still downcast.

"At considerable risk to you, I'd imagine." Harry looked thoughtfully at Draco, who kept his eyes on the ground, not daring to look up.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I believe you were being honest and that I don't have any doubts that both of your loyalties lie with Albus?" Harry asked Draco and Severus seriously.

"I guess so. I mean, it's clear that certain people want us dead, that should indicate that I'm not lying if nothing else does, right?" Draco asked weakly.

"Look, I think I've said it before, but I don't think we can fully appreciate which side of the fence we'd prefer to sit on until we've seen both sides. Don't beat yourself up about something that happened years and years ago. You came around in the end, didn't you?"

"I guess, but –" he began.

"No. I'm still coming by Ginny's and your rooms every chance I get, if I'm still welcome. Your drinking sessions with Ron are just _way _too entertaining to miss, and don't even _think _you can get out of helping me teach my classes," Harry told him in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

"And _you_ – " he said as he turned to Professor Snape "I'm still coming by your rooms after we finish up here for that calming draught you promised me," Professor Snape simply quirked his eyebrows and nodded, not quite sure what to make of the young man in front of him.

"Hey, you know what? I think I love that man. I really do," Draco said quietly to his friend, feeling his eyes begin to sting.

"Is that so?" Professor Snape asked.

"He just…makes sense..." Draco tried to explain.

"Hmm…" Severus said non-committedly, deep in thought about the enigma that was the Defence against the Dark Arts professor. 

Harry revived Ron, Hermione and Ginny and listened as they all exchanged stories, trying to piece together what had happened. Harry avoided having to answer any questions by volunteering to find Albus. He unlocked the door with his magical unlocker, which was similar to the one his godfather had given him when he was fifteen, and opened the door to find Albus and a few staff members crowded around it, as though they'd been trying desperately to listen in to what was happening inside the Hall.

"We couldn't hear any sounds coming from inside, so we thought you might have been finished, but we weren't sure," Minerva explained, looking a little dishevelled and worse for wear.

"Ah, there's a silencing charm on the room," Harry explained, vaguely.

"Oh." Albus and the professors filed into the Hall and closed the door behind them.

"Are the students okay? What happened to the trolls?" Harry asked as soon as he closed the door.

"The students are fine and are being supervised for the night. The trolls are no longer a threat to the students. In fact, they are no longer on the school grounds. Don't worry about us, we are all fine. We incurred only minimal injuries, which Poppy is taking care of as we speak," Albus reassured him.

"My goodness," Minerva exclaimed, her hand coming to her mouth as she quickly took in the condition of the witches and wizards in the Hall and the Hall itself.

"We're all right," Ron told her from where he was seated on the floor, holding his head weakly in his hands.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Tell me everything." Albus moved further into the room and addressed the men and women who had stayed behind in the Hall.

OOOOO

"…and if Jason hadn't attacked that guy, he would have killed either Severus or me," Draco explained to the Headmaster. Draco's eyesight had returned, but his eyes were still very sensitive to the light and he found himself squinting while he was speaking to the Headmaster.

"So his death was an accident?" Albus asked Harry, intently.

"Yes," Draco replied, glancing at Harry, who sat in stony silence.

"It is unfortunate, but we cannot always control these things," Albus observed. "What happened to the fellow over there?" he asked, pointing at Francis.

"Professor Green and I managed to overcome him," Professor Snape replied with a straight face. He didn't think Albus needed to know the details regarding exactly _how_ they stunned him, only that they did. To his credit, Harry didn't even blink at the vagueness of the answer that the Potions Master provided. _I thought you'd be milking this for all it's worth, I mean, come on Snape, you saved my life! But then again, we can't have everyone thinking that you've actually got a _decent _streak anywhere in you, can we? _Harry mused dryly to himself.

Albus looked gravely around the room. "We need information. This is becoming too serious to let slide." He nodded at Severus, who quickly left the room.

"Did you say the room has a silencing spell over it?" Albus asked Harry.

"Yes – two actually."

Albus nodded, apparently satisfied. "That will do very well."

Minerva drew four straight backed and severe looking wooden chairs and Albus levitated the four surviving imposters into them, binding them tightly with rope which sprang from his wand.

"We should question them one at a time, I think, to avoid having them argue with each other or help each other," Albus thought out loud.

"That'll probably take quite a while," Hermione sighed, wearily. "So we should get started right away."

"I agree. We shall start as soon as Severus returns with the veritaserum," Albus told her.

Harry made himself comfortable on one of the benches and braced himself for a long night ahead of him. He cast a standard grade healing spell on the bruising and swelling around his face and throat and waited.

OOOOO

"This has been a complete waste of time," Ron muttered irritably after three of the imposters had been questioned.

"Not entirely," Albus disagreed, casting a stunning spell at the imposter he had just finished questioning. "They have confirmed without a shadow of a doubt that they were attempting to kill Severus and Draco because of their disloyalty to the Death Eaters and to Voldemort, and that the Death Eaters have re-grouped and become active again." Albus took a drink from the glass Minerva brought over for him.

"Since they all said that Walter approached them to come here tonight, he should prove to be more helpful than his friends," Draco noted fiercely.

"I agree," Albus said, reviving the fourth imposter. "As you can see, you are securely bound, so attempting to run is futile," he told his captive. "We believe you have information that you should share with us."

"I'm not saying _anything_!" Walter protested.

"Oh I think you will," the Headmaster disagreed calmly as Severus quietly measured a few drops of veritaserum into a cup and approached him.

Walter stubbornly clamped his mouth shut and turned his face aside.

"Why do you guys always have to do things the _hard _way?" Ron asked, shaking his head.

"We can make things very difficult for you if you don't cooperate. You've managed to annoy me, so, personally, I hope you _don't _cooperate. I'll enjoy…educating you…on the virtues of being cooperative."  Draco threatened. All of the witches and wizards in the room nodded ominously at this, and a few raised their wands, meaningfully.

Walter remained tight lipped, so Professor Snape grabbed his nose so he couldn't breathe through it and used it as a convenient handle to yank his head back. When he finally opened his mouth to gasp for breath, the Potions Master poured the potion down his throat.

The imposter spat the drink back out at the older man, and Draco threw a stinging hex at the captive's face to rebuke him for the insult to his friend. "None of the others were as difficult as this," Draco murmured to Harry.

"I'm not going to drink it; I don't care _what _you do."

Harry rolled his eyes at the man's melodramatics and hopped off the bench he was sitting on. "Headmaster, I have something that might help. I'll be back in a minute," he said, before anyone could say anything.

Albus blinked in surprise but simply lifted the locking spell he had placed on the door to the Hall so the young professor could leave. It didn't take long for Harry to find what he needed in his room and return to the Hall.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing at the imposter and indicating that he wanted to approach him.

"By all means," Albus invited.

"Thank you," he replied politely, walking over to Walter and stopping right in front of him.

Professor Snape was standing slightly off to one side of Walter, and upon remembering some of the things 'Jason' had done, started to move out of the way. Harry stopped him though.

"Professor, if you wouldn't mind, I would like you to mix some of the serum into a _very small _amount of water."

The older man silently set about the task, wondering what on earth the younger professor had in mind.

Harry glared at Walter, coldly. "The Headmaster is a patient man, but I'm not," he informed him in quiet, chilly tones. "I have neither the time, nor the inclination, to be polite to you."

He'd kept one fist clenched by his side since he re-entered the Hall and he opened it, so that Walter could see what he'd been holding. "Do you know what this is? It's a syringe – a hypodermic needle," Harry explained, lifting it up and removing the safety cap, not bothering to wait for the imposter to answer. "Muggles use them all the time. They fill it up with solution and pierce it through the skin and into the vein and then they inject the solution into the bloodstream from there. So, you're right, you don't have to _drink _the veritaserum – but you _will _be taking it one way or another," he threatened.

"It won't work. Veritaserum doesn't work through the body like that, you have to _drink _it," Walter told them, desperately, not able to take his eyes off the needle.

Ignoring the stunned stares of the other professors in the room, Harry walked over to the bench Professor Snape had set up and filled the syringe with the potion. "Actually, it _will _work. The serum will still get to your brain, and that's what really counts," he told Walter, calmly walking back over to him. "I have to admit, I was a bit puzzled about how I was going to be able to find one of your veins while you were all tied up, but it's not a concern anymore." Harry roughly grabbed the man's hair and yanked his head to the side, exposing the side of his neck. "You've got a lovely vein right here in your neck," the young professor said, running one of his fingers along the vein to emphasise his point.

The man had his eyes shut tightly and his breath was coming in shallow gasps.

"I guess the only _real_ problem we might have is that the solution is just a little bit thicker than the medications that are normally injected," Harry told him, his voice calm and his face an unreadable mask. "Your heart might have a bit of trouble pumping the serum around your body. What do _you _think, professor?" Harry asked Professor Snape, turning to look at him.

The older man had not survived so long as a spy without being able to conceal surprise and improvise on the spot.

"It is only a small amount of solution. I do not _think_ his heart will give out. But if his heart rate is high, that will increase the strain on the muscle and it might very well collapse before the serum is absorbed fully into his bloodstream," he replied coolly, watching with a malicious delight as Walter visibly paled and squirmed slightly in his seat.

Harry pretended to consider the professor's opinion. "Yes, I agree. Of course, if there's an air bubble in the solution, he'll be snuffed out like a candle as soon as it reaches his heart."

Walter actually let loose a soft squeal when he heard this. "Now, are you going to drink the veritaserum, or would you rather we find out what will happen if I inject it into you?" Harry asked menacingly, one hand still holding Walter's head to the side, the other holding the syringe against the large vein in his neck.

Walter trembled visibly but didn't answer. "You wouldn't," he squeaked.

"Oh, is that right? Do you know what happened to the last person who ticked me off?" Harry leaned over and asked softly into Walter's ear, before he gestured toward Mitchell with his syringe, who wasn't too far away from them. His captive gulped and widened his eyes. "Don't test my patience, what will it be?" he asked, placing the needle against the vein in his neck again. 

"The – the – drink!" Walter spluttered.

Professor Snape arrived, as if on cue, with the drink. Harry moved his hand from the top of Walter's head to the base of skull, allowing the professor to tip the man's head back and pour the solution down his throat. Once he'd swallowed the serum, Harry took the needle away from his neck and emptied the solution into a spare glass on the potion master's bench, before re-capping the needle and returning to his bench, ignoring the astonished stares being directed at him.

"He should be ready now," Severus informed Albus, looking carefully at Harry. Harry silently returned his look.

"Er, very well," Albus stammered, still looking oddly at Harry.  "We know why you were here and what you came to do. Tell me, who sent you here?" Albus asked.

"The Dark Lord sent me," Walter replied in a flat, dead pan voice.

Harry's head snapped up and he looked carefully at Walter.

"Do you mean Voldemort?" Albus asked apprehensively.

"Yes."

_That's impossible! He's dead!  _Harry thought, shocked to the very core of his being. 


	13. chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the concept of Harry Potter or the characters. They all belong to the talented Ms. Rowling.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. If I didn't get back to you it's more than likely because I couldn't find an e-mail address, but I'd still like to forward a big thank you to you.

A big thank you to my beta, **Sepia, **your efforts are greatly appreciated.

CHAPTER 13

"No way," Ginny whispered. "Voldemort was killed eight years ago."

"My Lord took precautions. He is under the protection of spells and enchantments which work to prevent him from falling victim to a mortal death. Everybody assumed that Harry Potter killed my Lord when he was just a baby, but my Master returned. The whole wizarding world thinks that Harry Potter destroyed him eight years ago, but he lives."

_It can't be! There must be some mistake, _Harry thought desperately.

"Impossible. I would have _felt _him if he were still alive," Draco cried, lifting his left shirt sleeve and indicating the Dark Mark on his forearm.

"Harry Potter destroyed his body, but the Dark Lord still lives."

"How does he plan to return?" Albus asked.

"He has found a suitable body to inhabit so that he may return to us."

A few in the room gasped, but most remained silent, trying to come to terms with the implications of what they were hearing.

"Whose body has he chosen?" the Headmaster pressed.

"I don't know."

"Does Voldemort keep secrets from his Death Eaters?"

"He tells us what we need to know."

"Is that why the other threedidn't know who ordered tonight's attack?"

"Yes. It's rare for the Dark Lord to communicate directly with lower ranking Death Eaters."

 Albus paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "_When _will Voldemort return?"

"Soon."

"Can you be more specific?  How soon?"

"I don't know."

_No, _Harry shook his head_. Impossible.  There was nothing left of him. That spell was developed to do more than just destroy his body. Nothing could have survived it,_ he thought anxiously. He could still vividly recall the events of that day eight years ago when he had finally rid the world of Voldemort – though that's not the sort of thing that could be easily forgotten.

_"Yes, I broke your mother and father before I killed them. Now, prepare to join them!"_

_"Not a chance – Avacillius!" _

_"Potter, surely you must realise that you cannot – what is this…?  What have you done!  AAUUGGHH!!" _

_"Burn in Hell you son of a bitch!"_

Harry shook his head to clear it.

"Where do you meet with Voldemort?" he asked Walter, interrupting Albus' questioning.

"I…can't…tell you."

"Is the serum wearing off?" Ron asked.

"_Why_ can't you tell us?" Harry pressed.

"I'm not the secret keeper for our meeting place."

"Did that make sense to anyone else?" Ron asked, confused.

"The effects of the Fidelius charm will not permit anyone but the secret keeper to divulge the secret. Like Walter, they simply will not be able to reveal the secret, even under veritaserum," Albus explained.

"Oh.  Bugger," Ron nodded.

"Have any more attacks been planned?" Harry continued.

"I don't know of anymore. We were only ordered to kill Snape and Malfoy before the Dark Lord returned to us."

"So why did you come after _me?_"

"I was trying to kill _you _for entirely personal reasons."

Albus resumed his questioning at this point. "Who else is working for Voldemort?"

Walter rattled off a list of names, but by now Harry was no longer paying attention.  _I threw everything I had at him and I still couldn't beat him. What the hell am I going to do now?_

OOOOO

"How was it that I was unable to detect your concealment charm when you entered the school?" Albus asked curiously.

"At first we used polyjuice potion to assume the appearance of five of the Ministry staff. It took longer than

we anticipated to execute our plan, so just before it wore off, we excused ourselves and cast concealment spells to continue our disguise."

"Does anybody have any further questions for our…guest?" Albus raised his eyebrows at the other witches and wizards. When he received no response, he threw a stunning spell at Walter.

"Well, that was…fruitful. What are we going to do with _them_?" Ron asked, indicating the four remaining imposters.

"I will call our aurors to collect them as soon as I am done here, and I will arrange for the body to be taken to St Mungo's," Albus told him.

 Everybody else in the hall remained silent. They hadn't known this sort of fear in many years.

"We need to gather the Order together. I will call a meeting at headquarters for tomorrow," Albus told the group quietly.

"Don't you mean _today_?" Draco asked moodily. "It's already past midnight."

"We have a big problem though. Voldemort's coming back and we have no idea where Harry is," Ron observed quietly.

"That's true. We can only do so much without him," Hermione added.

_Of course. Why should anyone _else _think about standing in front of the darkest wizard to grace the earth when they can just throw _me _in front of him instead?  _Harry thought angrily.

"Yes, we _need _Harry. He's the only one who's supposed to be able to destroy him," Ginny added.

_And I've done a great job up until now. Haven't I?_

"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked softly.

_You only _need _me so that you can all hide behind me. I didn't see anyone standing _next to _me when I faced Voldemort last time. _

"We will do what we can," Albus said sternly.

If anyone was looking closely, they would have noticed that Harry had gone as white as a sheet and he was trembling slightly. His fear was partially replaced by anger, though, as he continued to listen to the small group talk about how much they needed him to return to them. 

"You must have _some_ idea of where he is," Ron pleaded with Albus. "I don't know whether you were just protecting his privacy before but you _know _that we need him now."

"I honestly do not know where he is. He has covered his tracks extremely well," said Albus as he shook his head.

"I wonder if he's ever thought about what he put us through, disappearing like that," Ron muttered angrily.

The panicked chatter in the hall was interrupted by a loud 'bang'. Harry's temper flared and some of his magic slipped out, scorching the floor in front of Draco. The young blond found himself the target of several strange looks.

"Er…sorry guys, I have no idea what happened. Um, I guess I must have just sparked from my wand…or something…" Draco told them, utterly confused.

Harry wasn't quite sure if he was more angry than afraid or the other way around but he knew that he had to leave the hall. If he heard any more about how much everyone needed him to return, he was quite sure he'd end up hexing someone. Everybody seemed to be busy chatting among themselves, and he took advantage of that to slip out of the hall, hurrying through the corridors of the castle to his own rooms.

He shut the door behind him and then leaned his back against it. _Oh my God, he's back. He's really back… and I'm scared to death. How am I going to face him again?_ he thought desperately t with a thud o himself before his knees gave out on him and he slid down the length of the door, landing on the floor with a thud . 

OOOOO

Harry spread his extensive collection of books and materials on the Dark Arts unceremoniously across the lounge room, leaving himself a small patch of carpet in front of the coffee table to sit on.  He had decided that he wouldn't reveal his identity to anyone until he'd had the chance to think things through properly, and he was still too shaken to attempt to do that. In the meantime, he had become consumed with a burning need to find out how the spell, which he was certain had killed Voldemort, was flawed and why it had failed.

His desperate concentration was interrupted by the sound of alarms that warned him when people were approaching his door, and then by someone knocking on it. He wasn't in the mood for company, so he tried to ignore it.

Whoever was at the door, though, was persistent. After they had continuously knocked for five minutes, Harry answered the door, certain that he'd never know any peace if he didn't.

He yanked the door open and stared irritably at the two men standing in front of it.

"Oh, I hope we didn't disturb you," Draco apologised without sounding the least bit like he meant it. "Can we come in?"

"It's two in the morning. Is it important?" Harry asked sourly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Yes, actually, it is."

Harry glared at the Draco and Professor Snape before he stood aside and let them in, too tired to argue.

"Er…" Draco observed intelligently, staring at the mess in the lounge room.

"I have your calming draught," the Potions Master indicated, holding up a vial while Harry cleared a space on his sofa for his guests.

"Thank you, but I don't need it," Harry told him, willing them to leave so he could be alone.

The older man gave him a piercing look before replying, "Yes, you do."

"Look, I may have needed it before, but I'm fine now."

"I disagree. In any case, the effects of the Cruciatus curse can be long lasting, and may affect your sleeping and eating patterns. We are all in need of some rest, so I _strongly recommend _that you take the potion."

Harry glared at the professor, who held his gaze, before leaving the room to look for a cup.

Severus looked away from the younger man, his frown deepening.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked quietly.

"Nothing," Severus lied. The young professor's eyes had seemed so guarded and so cold compared to the way they had been when he had managed to catch the young man in an unguarded moment only a few hours earlier. The contrast was striking…and a little disturbing.

"You said you had a potion for me?" Harry startled Severus out of his thoughts.

"Yes," Severus explained, recovering quickly and mixing the draught. "This is stronger than the draught that Poppy keeps in the hospital wing and will take effect much more quickly. I would have given it to you earlier but you left the Hall before anyone else did."

"Why _did _you leave before we could discuss what we were going to do today?" Draco asked, curious.

"You were all talking about Harry Potter.  I didn't think I'd be able to contribute anything helpful to the conversation since I didn't actually know him, so I came back here. I had some things to do anyway," Harry explained before quickly gulping down the potion and returning to the kitchenette to wash the cup out – thoroughly. Professor Snape's potions had a…lasting…aftertaste, and he certainly didn't want that flavour to linger in his cup.

"I don't think _I _could tell you much about him, I didn't know him that well. Ron, Hermione and Ginny would be able to talk to you for days about him though since they were all really close," Draco told him. Severus snorted derisively and Draco hushed him with a severe look.

Harry rolled his eyes at the older man's behaviour. "Why is it so important that you find him anyway? I mean, he's just _one man_, and there's so many of you in the Order" Harry asked, walking back into the lounge room and taking a seat among his books.

"I find it a little odd that you do not seem to want him to return," Severus commented.

_Nuts! Why does he have to be so damn clever?_ "I've heard the stories about him, but I think they've been grossly exaggerated. I don't think it's even _possible _to do some of the things they say he's done. I don't know what kind of man he is but he's only _one _man, isn't he? And he'd probably return on his own anyway. I don't think Voldemort's return can be kept a secret for very long, do you?"__

A tense silence filled the room and Harry sighed.  "In any case, I didn't miss anything by leaving early. I'd already heard Albus call a meeting of the Order for today anyway, so I assumed someone would give me the details later," Harry told them, absently flipping a page in one of his books.  _So just tell me the details and leave me the hell alone,_ he urged them silently.

"There's something I wanted to ask you – actually, we're _all _a little curious to know – how did you know that those Death Eaters were only pretending to be Ministry officials. I know you cast a revealing spell over them, but I don't understand why you thought you needed to do that when you must have known that Albus would have scrutinised them before he allowed them into the school," Draco said, changing the subject.

Harry stopped fidgeting with his books and looked long and hard at the young man. "Are you suggesting that I had certain information  about what was going to happen to day and that I kept it to myself, because if you are –"

"No," Draco interrupted quickly, "I was just curious, that's all."

Harry sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "My Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor always made it a habit to cast a revealing spell over everyone as a matter of course. The war was a nervous time for everyone, and he ingrained that particular habit into his students. Old habits are hard to break, I guess."

"Your instructor sounds like a man of good sense," Professor Snape noted.

"He was," Harry nodded. "So what plans have been made for tomorrow?"

"Um, actually, there's going to be a meeting at the Order Headquarters…but, there are a few Order members you have yet to meet and Albus has arranged for you to safeguard the school while we attend the meeting and explain who you are. After tomorrow's meeting, we'll be able to introduce you to the others."

"Is that so?" he asked them coolly.

"Er…It's not an indication of trust, it's –"

"I'm not offended," Harry interrupted. _Of _course _it's an indication of trust, but I don't care anymore, just as long as you all leave me alone.  _

"It's –" Draco began, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Now what?" Harry groaned, getting up to answer the door. "Professor Sprout, Theresa…er…this is a surprise."

"Miss Chan wouldn't believe any of us when we told her that everyone was alright and none of us were going to get any sleep until she checked on you, Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy to make sure you were all okay," the Herbology professor sighed.

"Oh. Um, thank you, but you really don't need to worry. I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure?" Theresa asked, wringing her hands.

"Yes, very sure," he said gently. "Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy are in here as well. Come in and take a look."

"We're fine. We really are…but thank you for your concern," Draco said. He was somewhat flattered that a non-Slytherin was worried about _him_, _a Malfoy_!

Draco and Severus looked at one another in surprise. They knew that Theresa was very fond of Professor Green and they'd seen the depth of her concern for her Defence against the Dark Arts professor before, but they were surprised that she'd also gone in search of _them _to make sure that _they _were also unhurt.

"We're all fine. We're just a little worn out right now," Harry assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you sure? You're not just saying that, are you?" Theresa asked, visibly relaxing.

"No," Harry shook h is head. "Of course not."

"Okay. I just wanted to be sure," Theresa added, relieved that they were unhurt, but more than a little embarrassed that she had made such a scene in front of the professors and the students in her common room.

"Thank you," Harry said simply. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? Actually, I think we should _all _try and get some rest."

"Thank you." The Herbology professor sighed wearily as she ushered Theresa out of the room. "Now maybe we can _all _get some sleep."

"That was nice," Draco observed. "She's a lovely girl."

"Yeah," he replied, sighing as he made his way to his place on the floor, tripping over a book and knocking into the mantelpiece over the fireplace on his way. A photograph of Greg fell to the floor and he snatched it up quickly.

"Is that a friend of yours?" Draco asked curiously, watching Harry levitate the picture back to its place on the fireplace mantel.

Harry sat back down on the ground and looked back up at the picture. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Draco mumbled, sensing the young professor's unease.

Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair, too tired to enter into an argument or deal with Draco's apologies. "He…was my partner."

"What, you mean like a research partner or – _oh_." Draco stopped when he realised that Harry wasn't talking about research partners in the slightest.

_I had no idea! And I came right out and just about accused him of having a fling with _Theresa _as well! _Draco mentally slapped himself, watching Harry adjust the picture on the mantelpiece. "That…must be hard with you being a professor and having to be at the school all the time," Draco blurted out, completely oblivious that Harry had referred to him in the past tense.

"He died, just before I started my professorship," he told them mechanically, closing his textbooks and marking his pages.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." Draco, cursed himself.

Professor Snape's eyes narrowed in thought. __

"It's fine. I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"If you need to…you know…talk or just have a big drinking session with someone – any time at all – you know where I am, okay?" Draco said sincerely.

"Thanks, but I think we should all try and get a few hours sleep. I think that calming potion worked a little too well," Harry told them, hoping that they'd pick up on the hint and leave.

"Come and see me if you require any other potions," Severus told him in a tone that brooked no disagreement.

"We'll talk to you tomorrow," Draco said, picking up on the hint.

"Sure," Harry told them as he showed them to the door and shut it behind him. _Finally!_

OOOOO

"He's gay," Draco observed to his friend.

"So it would seem."

"I never would have guessed."

"We don't walk about with signs on our heads. You are not supposed to be able to just point us out," the older man told his friend, his eyebrow raised.

"It's so sad that he lost his partner just before he got here. I guess working would have been the best thing for him, you know – to give him something to do so he wasn't just spending the whole day thinking about him. And there's certainly been enough happening around here to give him something to think about besides his partner," Draco noted.

"Indeed." 

"He seems to be doing alright for the most part though, doesn't he? I mean, I think that explains why every now and then he walks about with bags the size of Wales under his eyes, but I never would have guessed he'd lost someone if he hadn't told me."

"That is quite odd in itself.  If your wife had died, I am certain that I would have had to strap you to your bed and watch you twenty four hours a day, and it would be quite some time before I was sure you would not hurt yourself. However, I have not noticed anything about his behaviour to suggest to me that he had lost his partner. In hindsight I can recall minor things, but they did not mean anything at the time."

"I guess everybody deals with things differently. I mean, you're not an emotional person, in fact, you rarely even smile. Maybe he's the same."

"Perhaps," he murmured, unable to shake what he had seen in the young professor's eyes from his mind.

"On a different topic entirely, did he seem, I don't know… _annoyed_ to you? I know the whole thing about…_him_…returning has everyone on edge, but I don't know. He seemed…angry," Draco observed to Professor Snape.

"Yes, he did," the older man agreed.

"You don't think he's taking the whole thing about not being invited to the Order meeting personally, do you?" Draco asked him.

"It is unlikely. He does not seem to take those sorts of things personally."

"Mind you, he's been pretty edgy since the fight last night; do you think he's still beating himself up because he ended up killing Mitchell?"

"Perhaps."

"He came down a little hard on himself over that.  It was clearly self-defence though," Draco murmured to himself as he followed his friend down the hall back to his own rooms. "Do you remember when I told you last night that part of the reason I like Jason so much is because he just seems to make sense?"

"Vaguely."

"Well, I've changed my mind. He's confusing as hell," Draco muttered.

Severus smirked and continued down the dark corridor.

OOOOO

Draco, Ginny and the other Order members left the school after breakfast that morning to attend their meeting, leaving Harry to safeguard the school. When he'd asked why one of the more senior professors couldn't do that, Albus told him that his skills did more to recommend him for the task than their seniority.

With a sigh, he set about grading his students' papers in the Great Hall rather than in his rooms, so that he could be found easily if he was needed.

Some time later, Harry was interrupted when a young Ravenclaw rushed into the Hall and stopped breathlessly in front of his table.

"Professor! Professor! Please come quickly!"

"What is it? What's the matter?" Harry asked her, jumping to his feet and knocking a stack of papers over in the process.

"There's a fight – in the corridor. Please hurry sir, before she gets hurt," the young girl pleaded.

"Who?" Harry asked, quickly casting an imperturbable charm around his table so that no one could touch his work, before following the young girl out of the Hall.

"Theresa. Theresa Chan. She's my best friend, please hurry sir," the young girl cried, quickly leading Harry through the maze of corridors in the castle.

Harry turned into the hallway outside his classroom and came to an abrupt halt. A large crowd had gathered at the end of the corridor, but it was too thick for him to be able to see what was happening.

"Bloody hell!" he muttered before he cast Sonorus so that he could be heard above the noise of the crowd. "ALRIGHT! THAT'S ENOUGH!"

All of the noise stopped almost instantly. Nobody dared to move once they realised who had discovered them. While the young professor was a favourite among many of the students, they knew that he didn't tolerate foolishness. None of them were willing to do anything further to anger him, since they had just been caught fighting in the school halls.

"That's better," he said, removing the spell. "Now, _what _is going on here?" he asked, moving toward the crowd. The students nervously watched their professor, and they stood aside when he approached to reveal Theresa and a fifth year Ravenclaw with their wands out and still pointed at each other. Theresa had a large welt on her left cheek and her opponent had one on his chin.

"If someone doesn't answer my question you're _all _going to be serving detention with me _right now,_" he threatened them.

The students exchanged worried glances.

"You know the rules about fighting in the school. We don't teach you how to use your magic so you can hurt each other," Harry said sternly when no one answered him.

Finally one of the students spoke up. "Um…sir…ah…Matthew was, um, saying some things about how Theresa was…_worried_… that you and Professor Snape and Mr Malfoy might have been hurt last night and about how she was really…keen…to make sure you were alright."

"_Was _he?" Harry asked quietly, watching Theresa's opponent squirm uncomfortably and look nervously at some of the students about him. "Did he say anything else?"

"Um…well…he said some things about…_why_…she might have been so worried," the student stammered.

Harry could guess where this was going and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Several of the students backed away from him when they saw this. "_What _sort of things did he say?"

"S-sir, he said that…it's not _normal_ to worry so much about your professors…and that since she spends so much time with you and Professor Snape…she must be been so worried because…because…"

"Yes?" Harry prompted.

"…because she's _involved_ with the two of you," the student squeaked, cringing at the thought of what his professor might do now that he'd heard that.

Matthew was visibly trembling by now and he looked at the professor with nothing short of terror in his eyes.

"I want to see everyone in my classroom_. Right now_," Harry commanded, magically opening his classroom door and standing aside to let them in.

The students all but ran into the room and Harry followed them in, closing the door loudly behind him making his students flinch. He leaned back against the door and folding his arms across his chest, regarding his students seriously. "I had hoped that I'd put an end to these ridiculous stories, but clearly I hoped for too much. I didn't teach you how to throw hexes and curses so that you could use them on each other. I taught them to you so that you could use them if you _needed_ to. You both broke the school rules. I can appreciate why you might have been fighting, Miss Chan, but rules are rules, and they've been put in place to protect everyone."

Theresa nodded solemnly.

"All of our actions have consequences. The two of you could have injured someone with a stray hex, or even accidentally injured each other more seriously than you'd intended to. Do you understand?"

Matthew nodded.

"Yes sir, I do," Theresa said softly.

"And the rest of you," Harry began, shifting his gaze to the rest of the students, "_encouraged_ them to fight."

The students shifted nervously and looked at the ground.

"Now, let's talk about _why _you were fighting. Do you think the stories you were shouting about were true?" Harry asked, looking sternly at Matthew.

"N-no, sir," the young boy stammered, quailing under his professor's gaze.

"I don't want you to tell me what you think I want to hear, I want you to tell me the _truth_. What makes you think that Professor Snape and I are taking advantage of our student?" Harry asked, raising his voice.

Matthew flinched.

"You are right that Miss Chan spends some of her time taking extra tutorials with both Professor Snape and myself, but I would think that the improvement in her test scores should speak for itself, wouldn't you?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Do you believe these ridiculous stories?"

"No, sir."

"So why are you yelling them about?" Harry asked, raising his voice again and watching his students flinch. "You should be old enough to understand that everything you do has its own consequences. Spreading gossip about one of your friends and two of your professors can have serious consequences. These are serious allegations. Didn't you learn _anything _when the reporters were here a few weeks ago? Did you even think about what would happen if this had gotten out of hand and people put pressure on the Ministry to conduct another investigation?"

Matthew was trembling and looking anywhere but at his professor.  "Professor Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers are in no doubt that those stories were absolutely untrue and they'd be very annoyed – to say the very least – about having to entertain another investigation. They'll also be very angry that one of their students and two of their colleagues will unnecessarily come under scrutiny from the public and the Ministry – again. People don't forget those sorts of stories, regardless of whether they're true or not. Even if it comes to light that they aren't true, people still look at you and wonder," Harry said harshly, remembering how he felt when the entire school had thought he was Salazar Slytherin's heir and that he had been commanding a basilisk to attack the other students.  It turned out that Tom Riddle had been Slytherin's heir and had been working through Ginny to command the basilisk about the school, but Harry could still see how people looked at him when they thought he wasn't looking.

The young professor pushed himself off the door and began to pace slowly around the room, looking hard at his students, who were doing their level best to keep out of his path.

"Did you think that this must all be very embarrassing for Theresa? How do you think _I _might have felt about having my professional reputation attacked by a student?" Harry snapped. He was not normally this severe with his students, but his temper had been close to the surface since the previous evening, and his students' behaviour had caused it to deteriorate very quickly.

He sighed deeply. "You're lucky Professor Snape isn't here. I don't think he would take the time to explain why it's important to think about the effect your actions might have on others. I'm certain that he would give you all detention and let you learn about the virtues of being respectful to your professors and fellow students that way. As it is, you'll all serve detention with me this evening after dinner."

Harry took a quill and blank parchment from his desk and handed it to the student who was standing closest to him.

"Put your name on the parchment so I'll know who to expect this evening. Don't even think about putting someone else's name down or not putting your name down at all, because if I find out that anyone did that, they'll be serving extra detentions," he told them, hurrying to answer the knock at his door. Quickly recovering from his momentary surprise, he stood aside to let Albus, Severus, Minerva, Ron, Hermione, Draco and Ginny into the classroom.

"I didn't expect you back for hours," Harry said, covering his momentary shock.

"One of the students told us we might find you in this part of the castle. We have matters to discuss, when you have a moment," Albus told him quietly.

"Of course." The young professor nodded quickly, closing the door behind the group.

"Er, you must be keen to hold extra classes on a Sunday, though Defence Against the Dark Arts must have changed since I was a student. They look absolutely terrified! I never looked like that in any of my classes, and none of _my _students leave my classroom looking like that either – though some of Professor Snape's do." Ron grinned at Harry and missed the glare that Severus had levelled at the back of his head.

"I'm not exactly conducting a lesson," Harry muttered.

"In that case, what _are _you doing?" Albus asked calmly.

Harry sighed and explained to the why he had gathered the group of students into his room.

"I had thought that we had put this all behind us," the Headmaster said quietly.

"So had I," Harry agreed.

"No wonder they look worried. I would be too, if I were them," Ron said evenly, watching the students quail under the furious glares of the professors.

"I assume you have given them all detention," Professor Snape asked Harry, regarding the group of students before him with an ominous gaze.

"Yes. They will be seeing me this evening."

"Since I am also one of the subjects of this gossip, they will serve one week of detention with me, beginning tomorrow evening at 8pm.  As Miss Chan is also a subject of this foolish rumour-mongering, and as she is already serving a detention with you, she is excused from my detention." The students didn't dare protest, but they did look at each other with very worried expressions.

"And, in light of the circumstances, allow me to note, Miss Chan's improvement in her duelling skills." The Potions Master smirked, looking pointedly at the gash decorating Matthew's chin.

"Let me add my notice to Professor Snape's," Harry seconded.

Theresa blushed with a mixture of pride and embarrassment and looked down at her feet.

"I do not look lightly upon these matters," the Headmaster addressed his students. "I believe you will have been thoroughly punished by the time you finish serving detention with Professors Snape and Green,"

"I'll say," muttered Ron.

"So I will not give you additional punishment. _Never_, insult the reputations of my staff or students again. Do I make myself clear?" The students paled under their Headmaster's angry tones.

"Y-yes, sir," they mumbled together.

"Good. Professor Green? When you have a moment."

"Of course. Since you're all here anyway, just let me clear the room out and we can talk here, if that suits you," Harry suggested.

"That will suit us very well," Albus agreed.

"Have you all put your names on that piece of parchment?" Harry asked his students, prompting them back into action. "Once you've all done that, I want you to move all the desks and chairs to the side of the room, ready for my class on Monday – _without _magic," Harry instructed, leaning casually against one of the desks.

"How does it feel to know that one of your students got into a fight to defend your honour?" Draco whispered slyly to Severus.

"Do not be absurd. It is not _me _she did this for," the Potions Master snapped irritably.

"Maybe not _just _you, but I think after last night – well, actually I guess it was this morning – it's clear that you're at least a _part _of the reason she took on somebody who comes close to being about twice her size. I must say, though, that in_ my _day the _men _defended the _women_ from the stains of dishonour, not the other way around."

"I think I have already mentioned that I have quite a few things in my store cupboards that can effectively seal your mouth shut forever."

"You might have mentioned it once or twice," Draco teased, and though he was tempted to say more, he silenced himself when he noticed Theresa approaching them.

"Excuse me, Professor," she began nervously. "Um, since you'll be supervising detentions during the time I'm supposed to be seeing you for a tutorial, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind re-scheduling the lesson. I'd really rather not miss it, but I'd understand if you were too busy to make the lesson up."

Severus regarded the young girl carefully. "Miss Chan, I have no objections to re-scheduling your tutorial; however, I had thought we had moved past the stage where you felt nervous in my presence."

"Er…" she stammered, shifting her feet from side to side. "I…er…"

"If you're worried about having caused any problems today, don't be," Draco told her gently, reading her pained expression like an open book.

Theresa turned to the young man in surprise. "I really didn't mean for –"

"You have done nothing to make me angry with you. I thought I had made that clear," the Potions Master said, matter-of-factly.

"I thought…well…I _was_ breaking the rules. Professor Green explained how all of our actions have their own consequences and how we should think about things like that. And I really _didn't _think about that, but I accept now how foolish it was to start duelling in the corridors…"

"As a member of staff I cannot comment on the matter," Severus said carefully, looking at his friend who was casting a furtive look around him to make sure Albus wasn't in ear shot.

"I'm _not _a member of staff though, so _technically_, I can make all the comments I like – providing the Headmaster doesn't hear me,"  Draco said, winking at the young girl.

Theresa giggled quietly.

"Professor Green _had _to give you a detention for fighting in the hallways – the school rules require him to do it. Besides, he _does _make a good point. Every action has its own consequences, and in this particular case someone could have ended up hurt today. As a Hogwarts professor, he can't exactly _encourage _that behaviour, and neither can Professor Snape," Draco explained, glancing at his friend who stood stoically beside him. "Trust me though, none of the teachers here – or Mrs. Malfoy or myself – are angry with you."

"Are you sure? Even Professor Green?" the young girl asked in a small voice, glancing quickly at her favourite professor.

"Of course. He was more annoyed that you had to get involved at all than anything else, as are the rest of us.  You're a subject of this ridiculous gossip as well, and it must be tiresome for you to have to keep defending yourself against these claims, not to mention embarrassing for a young girl like yourself," Draco assured her.

Severus cleared his throat in warning, and when Draco looked around him he spotted the Headmaster approaching.

"I suggest having our tutorial on Saturday morning directly after breakfast, if that time suits you," the Potions Master said, before Draco could say anything more.

"Theresa," Albus greeted her. "If you would like to see Madam Pomfrey she will be able to close that gash on your cheek for you."

"Thank you, sir," she said quietly without quite meeting her Headmaster's gaze. "And thank you, Professor, that time is fine." She glanced quickly at her Potions Master.

"You are welcome." Professor Snape bowed his head. He always had time for his students who were genuine about learning, and Theresa's dedication and interest in his subject endeared her to him in this regard.

"I am certain that between the two of them, Professors Snape and Green will be able to make their detentions…_educational_ enough that the reasons for them will not be forgotten so quickly.  Once word of those detentions gets out among the student body, I think you will find that the students will be somewhat reluctant to continue to speculate about the nature of your relationship with my professors," Albus assured the young girl.

Theresa looked up at her Headmaster with obvious relief, but her relief turned to concern when Draco hissed and grabbed his left forearm tightly, his jaw clenched. She noticed that her Potions Master had also grabbed his left forearm, and she could see the muscles along his jaw line clenching in an effort to appear as though nothing was wrong.

The staff looked on, frightened of the significance of their actions, while the small group of students before them looked at the two men with interest, whispering among themselves. Theresa looked at the two men with obvious confusion, but her confusion turned to irritation when she noticed that the other students had already begun pointing at them and gossiping. She deliberately moved so that she was standing directly in front of the two men, doing her best to shield them from the view of the rest of the students with her thin frame.

Before the Headmaster could usher the students out of the room, a groan broke through the room followed by a loud thud where the formidable Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had collapsed to the ground.

OOOOO

The Dark Lord's three most talented potion makers and his two strongest spell casters silently finished dressing the body. They levitated it to lay on one of the two tables, sitting side by side in the middle of the damp, murky room. The Dark Lord had needed these five particular wizards to restore the body, which had been resting for centuries in the Museum of Mystery and Magic, so that it was fit for him to inhabit.

He watched, hardly able to contain his anticipation as his followers silently dressed the body and then respectfully stepped back from the table.

"My Lord, it is ready," one of the wizards said quietly.

"Excellent," their Master hissed, casting an appraising eye over the body lying on the next table. The features were prominent and sharp, and the body was a testament to strength and power. It would be a marvellous thing to inhabit this man's body.

"The spell, cast it!" he fervently commanded. "_Now_!"

"Advantes Restorum!" a wizard cried, sending a powerful jet of light toward the shapeless mass. All of the wizards unconsciously took a step back as they watched their Master's form slowly fade to become what appeared to be the barest whisper of smoke, floating off the table and into the body lying next to it.

Nothing happened for quite some time, and the wizards peered cautiously at the body, wondering if their efforts had been futile. Suddenly, the body stirred. Its eyes snapped open and its chest heaved. It shifted about, touching at parts of his newfound body as if to make sure he was real.

"My Lord?" one of the wizards asked cautiously.

"It has been eight years, eight long years, since I was forced to go into hiding.  My devoted servants, who have toiled at my behest all these years, have no fear – your faithfulness will be rewarded." He eased himself off the table, flexing limbs and muscles that hadn't been used in centuries. "However, those who have betrayed me, and those who have worked to undermine me to avoid what is destined to be; have no fear – Voldemort will exact payment," his lip curled, "and oh, how the price will be dear."

"Yes, my Lord, and this time you will not have Harry Potter to stand in your way."

"And why do you suggest that?" Voldemort hissed

"He has not been seen or heard of since the last battle, my Lord."

"Fools! He is alive. I can feel it. We…how shall I put it?  Share a bond, a _connection_, and I can still _feel _him at the other end of our link." His red eyes narrowed dangerously. "He has been lucky up until now. I blame myself for having underestimated him too many times, but he is _nothing _to me. I can deal with him whenever I choose."

Voldemort admired his new body in the mirror standing against one of the walls in the room.

"I have been waiting a long time for this moment, and it is only fitting that the body I have chosen is the body of my own ancestor, the great Salazar Slytherin." He gazed at his reflection for a long time before turning slowly around and facing the five wizards in the room. "However, as admirable as your dedication has been…you have all failed me. I told you to kill the traitors before I returned."

"My Lord, we – we are sorry," one of the robed men whispered, keeping his eyes submissively low.

"I do not tolerate failure well," he hissed. "Hold out your arm," he commanded the man, who obeyed immediately and nervously thrust out his left forearm. "But there is nothing we can do about it now," he hissed in soft, menacing tones, touching his finger to the Dark Mark on his follower's arm. It burned a dark black and alerted all of his followers to his return.  In moments, his followers would apparate to his side.

"I think I'll give Potter a gift, something to show him that I'm still thinking of him," Voldemort sneered. He raised his hands in the air and unleashed wave upon wave of dark and malevolent magical energy into the room, causing it to shake and tremble, laughing wickedly the entire time. "Enjoy that Potter," he smirked, lowering his arms. "I know I did."

OOOOO

Harry was on his knees, one hand pressed tightly to the scar on his head and the other hand on the ground, trying to steady himself. The pain in his scar was excruciating and seemed to be coming at him in surges. He was in hell.

"Oh my God! Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!" he begged to no one in particular, clenching his teeth together tightly and breathing heavily, trying to stave off the pain.

"Professor!" Theresa cried, but before she could move to his side, Harry stopped her.

"Don't come any closer!" he cried without looking up.

"But –"

"No…It's too dangerous," Harry grunted as he was engulfed by a fresh surge of pain. "OH YOU SON OF A – AAUUGGHH – BITCH YOU'RE MEANT TO BE DEAD!" he screamed, clutching his forehead desperately with one hand and slamming a fist onto the ground with the other.

Everybody was transfixed by what they were seeing. Several sets of eyes in the room looked back and forth between Harry, who was holding his head and screaming his throat raw, and Professor Snape and Draco, who were still holding their forearms. Suddenly Albus' eyes widened and he inhaled sharply – "Harry?!"

"What?" gasped several voices around him. "It can't be!"

"Not Harry Potter!"

"_He's been here all this time_?"

Draco stared at Harry in surprise and Severus hissed in disbelief.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head and taking a step back.

"Severus," Draco said quietly but firmly.

At that simple command, the older man shook his head and assumed his customary stoic demeanour.

"You need to leave – get away – now!" Harry gasped, sweat from his exertion dripping onto the floor.

"But –"

"I can't – I can't – NOW!" he yelled out, looking up at them for the first time and seeing the shock and fear on their faces.

"Professor –" Theresa began.

"Go!" he cried. Most of the students ran from the room, and most of the staff looked ready to leave as well.

"Let's go..." Draco told Theresa, grabbing her arm and dragging her away. She shrieked, as she heard an almighty scream tear from Harry's throat and felt someone throw her to the ground.

The restraints over his magic gave way, and a force of raw magical energy was unleashed – throwing some people to the ground, and causing furniture around him to shatter and splinter spectacularly. It sent debris flying from one end of the hall to the other, knocking people to the floor. Thankfully – mercifully – a large piece of debris knocked Harry across his head and knocked him unconscious as well, reining his magic in.

Everybody stayed as they were on the ground, not daring move for some time. Slowly, one by one, people began to peek out from behind their hands. When they felt it was safe they began to stand up, dusting themselves off and picking their way through the debris in the hall.

Theresa broke free of Draco's hold and ran to her favourite professor's side.

"Theresa, no!" Draco cried out, but she had escaped before he'd had a chance to recover from the ordeal. In fact, he was still trembling.

"It is far too dangerous for anyone to be near him right now," Professor Snape called out, picking himself up off the floor.

The young girl didn't seem to hear them as she ran from them. "Oh, God," she whispered when she reached his side. Harry was drenched in sweat and as white as a ghost, except for the red marks on his forehead where he'd gripped his head so tightly.

"Find Poppy straight away. Tell her what has happened and ask her to come down here. I expect you will need to help her to carry a few things – potions and the like," Albus quietly instructed a wide-eyed and pale Minerva, who nodded and left immediately.

"I don't think you realise who that is," Draco warned Theresa when he caught up to her.

"I know what his name is, and it doesn't matter. He's not dangerous. He's not even awake," she told Draco and the professors as they arrived.

Ginny and Hermione joined Theresa on the ground, and together they gently rolled Harry onto his back. No words were necessary among the three; they were brought together by their shared concern for the young man lying before them. Ginny carefully lifted Harry's head so that Theresa could place her folded robes underneath, so it wouldn't rest on the cold hard floor. The rest of the staff had discreetly formed a circle around them, shielding them from the view of the other students and anxiously looking on themselves.

"What the hell was _that?_" Ron asked, looking slightly wild about the eyes.

"_That _was _Harry_…I think," Albus said quietly, still too shocked to be able to manage anything more.

"So, you're telling me that 'Jason' has been Harry – our Harry – all along?"

"It would seem so."

"Holy shit!"

"I agree," Ginny murmured, gently stroking Harry's hair and forehead. 

Albus moved to stand very close to Severus and Draco. "There can be no doubt about what your reactions, and Harry's, mean, can there?" he asked just loudly enough for them to hear.

"None at all," Severus answered gravely.

"I see." Albus lowered his head in thought.

"I can't believe he was right _here_," Hermione said quietly, holding Harry's hand and looking like she was about to cry. "I should have realised. Now that I think about it there were a hundred little things that gave him away every day…but I didn't see it. He's changed so much."

Ron growled, struggling to accept that it was really Harry lying in front of him. It couldn't have been a coincidence that 'Professor Green' had crashed to the floor when Severus' and Draco's forearms began to burn. The connection was plain to see and a war of emotions raged within the young man. "He may have changed, but there's no doubt that it's really _him_ – and I'm going to kill him!"

Theresa looked up in alarm, but she decided against saying anything when she caught the fierceness of the Muggle Studies professor's expression.

"Why would he lie to us? We're his best friends,"  Hermione thought aloud.

"I intend to ask him when he wakes up," Ron told her grimly.

"There can't be any doubt now," Ginny whispered, tracing Harry's faintly visible scar with her thumb.

Theresa leaned in and squinted with the effort of trying to see it. Everybody in the wizarding world had heard about Harry Potter's scar, and she'd seen pictures of it, but in all the time she'd seen him, she had never noticed a scar on her Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's forehead until now.

"I thought it was meant to be, well, _darker_ than that."

"It _was_," Ginny told her, puzzled.

"Oh! My goodness!" Madam Pomfrey cried when she entered the room, interrupting the young witches. The medi-witch would have lifted a hand to her mouth but her arms were full of bandages and the other first aid equipment that Minerva, who had followed her to the room, was unable to carry. A few people had been hurt or knocked unconscious in the blast and the room was littered with debris from the furniture that had been blown apart.

"Poppy – excellent," Albus greeted her, magically shutting and locking the door behind them.

"What _on_ _earth_ happened?" she asked, moving briskly to one of the unconscious students and setting her supplies down on the floor.

"_He_ has returned," Albus told her very quietly. Madame Pomfrey was one of the Order's own medi-witches now, and she was kept fully informed of the Order's activities.

"That may be so, but it doesn't explain what happened _here_," she told him, unstoppering a few vials.

The Headmaster hesitated, not quite sure how to explain. "Harry Potter has returned as well."

Poppy froze in the act of pouring the contents from one of the vials and stared open mouthed at the Headmaster for some time before she finally recovered herself. "Well, that _does _explain what happened here, I suppose. But –"

"I will explain everything when I receive a few answers myself. It would seem that our Professor Jason Green was, in reality, our very own Harry Potter."

"No! But…how…" she spluttered.

"I would like to know that myself." Albus nodded grimly. 

Poppy pursed her lips in thought. "Where is he? If he did all of this, perhaps I should treat him first."

"He appeared to be in considerable pain for some time before he passed out, but it seemed to be entirely related to his scar," Albus informed her, glancing quickly at the young man.

"I see. In that case, all he can do is rest. I'll be able to give him a few potions when he wakes up, but I won't be able to do anything until then," she sighed, turning back to the student before her.

OOOOO

"Excuse me, dears," Poppy said in her most business like manner, bustling over to Harry's side with Minerva trailing, her arms loaded down with some of Poppy's equipment.

"Be careful, you know how he sometimes used to get when his scar would play up," Ron called out to her.

"Thank you Mr. Weasley, I know what I am doing," she rebuked him crisply, kneeling down on the ground and pushing up her sleeves.

The medi-witch murmured a few spells before gathering her things together and standing up. "That's all I can do for him at the moment, I'm afraid."

"But he's still unconscious," Theresa said in some confusion.

The medi-witch looked gravely at her. "Dear, I've had some experience with this…sort of thing, and it won't do any good to try to revive him with magic. He needs to come out of this himself, so it's the hospital wing for him. Just let me get cleaned up and gather all of my things together."

"How long do you think it will be before he wakes up?"

"It's hard to say. He's just exhausted right now, that's all. There's nothing for you to worry about."

"Yes there is," Theresa murmured almost inaudibly, unable to shake the image of her professor screaming and clutching his head out of her mind.

"Maybe we should set up a private room for him; we'll need to talk to him when he wakes up," Albus suggested to the medi-witch.

"Maybe that would be best."

"And maybe you should lock him in so he can't run away again," Ron suggested angrily.

"I agree," Hermione added, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Ron, Hermione," Ginny rebuked, glancing/ significantly at Theresa.

"Do you really think a locked door will keep Harry in? I think that we should perhaps simply have someone watch him until he wakes up and have someone alert us when he comes around," Albus objected, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Is that a good idea? I mean, what if he decides to do…this…again?" asked Ron, viciously.

"Oh come on!" Ginny cried. "You know as well as I do that he doesn't just _decide _to do things like this. And…the thing that set him off…" Ginny described vaguely with a glance at Theresa, "…doesn't happen everyday, does it? It's not likely that it'll happen again."

"No wonder he didn't want to go near veritaserum," Draco observed grimly. Severus nodded.

"Would you all stop talking about me as if I wasn't in the room?" Harry growled, his voice husky from all the screaming he'd done. He was still trembling and a little dizzy, and was finding it difficult to get back on his feet. Once he managed to stand up, Ron stepped forward and punched him clean in the face before he'd had a chance to regain his balance. Harry stumbled backwards and landed on the ground with a heavy thud, sighing and rubbing his jaw as he clumsily picked himself back up again.

Several people gasped and Theresa clapped her hands to her mouth, stunned.

"That one was free," Harry said, picking himself up again and standing unsteadily on his feet, rubbing his jaw. He looked Ron square in the eye. "_Don't_ do that again," he told them in a very chilly voice. Ron stared back at him fiercely, his hand gripping his wand tightly by his side.

"Did anyone get hurt?" Harry asked, looking about the room with worry.

"Everybody is fine, dear," Madam Pomfrey assured him.

He nodded slowly, apparently satisfied. "The students need to leave, right now."

Albus arranged for Madam Pomfrey to take the students to the hospital wing and keep them there until he had a chance to speak with them before unlocking the door and ushering them out of the room.

"He's right," Draco said softly to Theresa, who looked as though she wanted to protest.

"I'm not a nice man," he said, looking at Theresa whose eyes widened in surprise and fear, "and it's too dangerous for you to be anywhere near me, just ask any one of _them,_" he said, nodding his head toward the group of adults in front of him, "they'll tell you."

The young girl turned to look at Harry before she left. "You're wrong, you know. If you weren't a nice man, you wouldn't have cared whether or not anyone got hurt."

Harry looked closely at everybody in the room and, deciding that he didn't like his chances of escaping without being hexed, he erected a simple shield about himself with a flick of his wrist and a few muttered phrases. In his already weakened state, it took a great deal out of him to do this, but this would ultimately save him the effort of having to repeatedly defend himself against any spells that may be thrown his way. It wouldn't, however, save him from any more punches that Ron might decide to throw at him.

"Harry? Is that really you?" Ginny asked. Harry wearily nodded his head.

Ron tried to lunge at Harry again, but Draco and Ginny caught his arms. "You absolute bastard!" he yelled as he tried to hex Harry. His spell deflected harmlessly from his shield. "Eight years, damn it! You were missing for _eight years_! We didn't know where you'd gone, or even if you were still _alive_."

Harry sighed and stumbled to the nearest wall, leaning back against it wearily and running his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. I really am, but I _had _to leave. You couldn't possibly understand," he said half to himself, unable to look at anyone.

"What do you mean you _had _to leave?" asked Ron viciously.

"I didn't want you to find out like this. I was going to tell you myself…I left so you would be _safe_," Harry mumbled.

"You'd killed Voldemort – or so we'd thought – and we'd been fighting Death Eaters while you were away, so what _exactly_ did you think you were keeping us safe from?"

"Do you think Voldemort is the only thing you need to worry about?" Harry rubbed at his tired eyes. "I knew you'd be upset and you have every right to be angry, but I didn't have any other choice."

"You could have at least mentioned what you were going to do or where you were going. We were your _best friends _and you didn't tell us anything!  How do you think we felt? Did you even stop to think about what you were putting us through?"

Harry looked up and regarded his friend carefully. "Do you think I didn't think about you? A day hasn't passed since I started training after fifth year when I _haven't _thought of you guys. I loved you. You were my _family_."

"If you loved us, you've got a funny way of showing us. Family doesn't just leave one another. Family stays in touch with one another –"

"Family looks after one another," Harry interrupted Ron, his temper rising. "And while we're on the topic of people leaving each other, let me refresh your memory. _I _didn't leave _you_. _I _was the one that all of _you_ _left behind_."

"You've got to be kidding! You left all of us. In fact, the last time Hermione and I heard from you was about two months before we started our sixth year."

"When I told you both that Albus wanted to send me away to be trained, you told me that it was a good idea, that if it improved my chances of surviving whatever Voldemort could throw at me then I should go."

"Well, it did, didn't it?" Ron asked.

"I never saw any of you again!" Harry cried. "I took a portkey to a training location and was left there with a bunch of instructors. I never saw you or Hermione again! I never even _heard_ from the two of you. I heard from Albus though. Three months into my training Albus started sending requests that I begin field work – 'scouting trips', weren't they?" he asked glaring coldly at the Headmaster and remembering exactly what all of those 'scouting trips' and 'information gathering missions' had involved. Albus looked away from the young man, unable to bear the pain evident behind that gaze.

"You were not the only one on those sorts of assignments," Albus said softly.

"No, I guess I wasn't, but every time I started to feel…overwhelmed, or even show the smallest sign of becoming upset I was given dreamless sleep potion, or calming draughts or numbing elixirs. What good are they to a _boy_, for Heaven's sake? How could you take a _boy _away from everyone he cared about and leave him on his own, with only a room full of potions to get him through?"

Some of the witches and wizards gasped and their eyes widened with shock. Even Severus, who was normally unshakeable, arched an eyebrow. Only a few select people had known what had happened to Harry all those years ago, and he hadn't been one of them. He didn't want to know either, because what he didn't know couldn't be forced out of him.

"I had responsibilities –"

"The only thing that helped me to keep my head in school was my friends and you kept them from me," Harry gritted out from between clenched teeth.

"There was no secret about who you were close to when you were younger, and I thought it safest that they have absolutely no idea about where you might be, who you might be with or what you might be doing so that if, by chance, they were captured and tortured for information, they could not reveal that information."

"I would have been careful!"

"You said yourself that you needed a friend during those years. I have no doubt you would have _tried _to be careful, but you would have inevitably let something slip, and that I could not risk."

"Their safety was never an issue. They could have been captured at any time and they _still _would have been able to give away sensitive information. We all spent the summer before fifth year at headquarters and we knew more about what was going on than you thought we did."

"But the safety of the rest of the world was an issue. If Voldemort had discovered that you were being trained, he would more than likely have accelerated his plans, before you were ready for him."

"You can _never_ be ready for someone like that," Harry muttered coldly.

"We didn't _want _to leave you," Hermione said quietly. "And we didn't know that we'd never see you again either. Albus only told us _after _you'd left that we weren't to contact you or to even try and find out where you'd gone because when everyone found out you were missing, they'd be watching us to see if we could lead them to you, since we were your best friends."

"The three of us used to do a lot of things that Albus told us not to do," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at her.

"You're being unreasonable!  We didn't want to get you killed!"

"That's laughable. I'd be more worried that _fighting Voldemort _was going to get me killed."

"So why did you leave? We went straight to the hospital after the battle and you weren't there. No one knew where you'd gone," Ron asked, still glaring fiercely at Harry.

"I've already told you. It was for your own good. I –"

"I don't care much for people doing things for my own good, especially when they claim to –"

"Neither do I!" Harry cried angrily. "But people have been doing things for my own good – _I've _been having to do things for my own good – my whole life. It sucks, doesn't it? Welcome to my world!"

"Yes, but –" Ron began, but stopped himself when he caught the furious expression on Harry's face. 

"I still think you could have stayed," Hermione said in a quiet voice. "Now don't fly off the handle, but I've listened to everything you've said and I still think you should have stayed, or at least let us know how to contact you, because we would still have wanted to find you, even in spite of the danger you said existed for us. We love you, Harry. We didn't stop loving you just because we didn't see you for three years. We didn't contact you while you were training because Albus and the Order were preventing us from doing it and we didn't want to lead Voldemort to you, but no one was stopping us from finding you when the war ended, except _you_. Did you really have to _leave_ the wizarding world?"

Harry sighed. "I…attract a certain amount of attention, and I hate it. Always have. It was only going to get worse if I stayed." Harry stopped, looking around to see if everyone believed him. _Well, that's half the reason anyway, _he thought grimly to himself.

"That is not the real reason you left, is it?" Professor Snape asked, his eyes studying Harry's face.

Harry looked at him carefully. _Damn it Snape! Why do you have to be so bloody clever? _ "I didn't like who I was becoming…who I became." he all but whispered. "I did things…and saw…" he began, trying to stop images of people being tortured and killed flashing in front of his eyes.  Taking a deep breath and shaking his head to clear it, he tried again. "I like Jason. He's the man I'd like to have become. Harry was…different.  He wasn't allowed to be like Jason."

_Interesting…_ thought Severus.

"They were necessary to –" Ron began, trying to grapple with what Harry was saying but Harry cut across him.

"Don't lecture me about how we all made the sacrifices that were _required _of us. I did a lot of…things…because I was _required_ to do them. When will I be allowed to tell necessity to take a hike and do what I _want _to do? When can I have what _I want_?!" he cried angrily, shocking everyone in the room into silence for a few moments.

"What _do _you want?" Hermione asked pleadingly.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, softening his voice. "I really don't. I thought I had it, but I lost him before I woke up one morning," Harry said quietly.

Harry turned and headed unsteadily toward the door. "Where are you going?" Ginny cried.

"Don't tell me you're running away again. For someone who is supposed to have enough courage in them to be sorted into Gryffindor and fight Voldemort face to face, you certainly are quite good at running away!" Ron said furiously.

Harry stopped, the rebuke from his best friend finding a sore spot in him. "Why don't you just sod off! You've got no _idea_ what you're talking about." A few people gasped. It wasn't so much _what _Harry had said that had shocked them, but the cold and flat way he'd said it. A few more gasps could he heard when Harry unlocked the door to the Hall without his wand. "I don't run away from things like this. I can't afford to."

"I just –" Ginny began.

"Look, I'm bloody tired and I've got a headache the size of London, so you'll excuse me if I seem a little _short_. Right now I'm just looking for a bed – and a headache potion."

"Well, after –" Albus tried to say before he was also cut off.

"I'm not going anywhere, Albus," Harry said bitterly. "I _have _to stay somewhere in the wizarding world now that Voldemort is back, so it may as well be here. Just leave me alone for a while. I just need to… think."

"I just –" Ginny began yet again.

"What?" he asked, quickly reaching the end of his patience.

Ginny cringed back. "I – I just wanted to – that's not what you really look like, is it? I cast a revealing spell over you a little while ago, but – you don't look like Harry," she said in a small voice.

Harry stared at her for a few moments, a little ashamed of himself for being so short with the girl he'd always thought of as a sister. "I'm wearing a concealment spell, but it's not like the ones you're used to seeing," he replied. "I'm wearing contact lenses as well because, well, everyone knows what colour my eyes are and that I'm as blind as a bat," he said more softly. "I'd really rather not remove the concealment spell right now though. I'm absolutely buggered and I just want to lie down."

Ginny nodded and he turned, opened the door, and staggered out of the classroom. He let himself into his rooms and all but crawled to his study where he kept his potions. A couple of vials of headache potion was all he needed, and he quickly found what he was looking for and stumbled to the bedroom. Harry put the vials on his bedside table and dropped unceremoniously onto the bed, massaging his forehead and working himself up to taking the potions.

It surprised Harry that the thought of his friends despising him caused him just as much pain as the thought that he would have to face Voldemort again. He had always felt that he could face anything as long as he had his friends behind him and knew that they supported him. The thought that he would be alone when he fought that monster again was almost more than he could bear and he couldn't stop the silent tears that fell.

_You brought this entirely on yourself, you know. It's your fault that Voldemort isn't dead, and it's certainly your fault that they're all mad at you. You'd be mad at you too if you were them. _

With that final thought, he dragged himself up and lay back against the pillows, reaching out for one of the vials and unstoppering it with one shaking hand. He was trembling so much that some of the liquid splashed onto his arm, his clothes and his bed sheets, but he didn't care. He put the vial to his mouth and threw his head back, downing the contents in one go. He did the same with the rest of the vials and fell back into a partially exhausted, partially potion induced sleep.


	14. chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of Harry Potter or its characters. They all belong to the talented Ms. Rowling.

Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed and a big thank you to my beta, **Sepia**, your efforts are always greatly appreciated.

CHAPTER 14

"My dear boy, what has happened to you?" Albus whispered to no one in particular, after Harry made his hasty exist from the classroom.

"At least Potter is true to form, announcing his arrival with pomp and noise. We can't expect anything less from the son of James Potter, can we?" Severus sneered.

"Severus!" rebuked Albus. "That will do."

Severus seethed silently.

"Ginny, please let Remus know that Harry has returned and is here, at the castle," the Headmaster instructed.

"You know that he'll want to come and see him right away, don't you?" the young woman said quietly, still trembling a little.

"Yes, however, tell him that he is not to come here for the moment and that I will explain everything to him later."

Ginny nodded and was about to leave when the Headmaster called her back.

"Oh yes, and ask him to call a full meeting of the Order for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Monday. Where will you find enough replacement teachers to cover for the staff who will be at the meeting?" Ginny asked, her brow furrowing.

"I will simply cancel all classes for tomorrow. This is more important than anything else at the moment," Albus told her seriously.

"Man! I think he broke my leg!" Ron complained loudly.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Jason, or Harry, or whoever the hell he is now," Ron grimaced, rubbing his leg.

"He's Harry. He'll always be Harry," Hermione said simply. "And just how did he break your leg? _You _hit _him_."

"A big bit of wood smacked into my leg when he went berserk earlier."

"He's really strong, isn't he?" Hermione shuddered. "I mean, he was always stronger than us when we were in school – and I know he needs to be very powerful in order to stand a chance of defeating Voldemort – but if that was just an _outburst_ of his magic, just how powerful has he really become?"

"Imagine carrying that around inside of you. It's almost scary. How does he do it?" Ginny all but whispered, having returned from talking to Remus through the floo.  She had expected the last of the Marauders to have been excited that they had finally discovered Harry's whereabouts. After all, he had been the only one who had continued to actively search for Harry, even though the others had long ago resigned themselves to the fact that Harry obviously didn't want to be found.  However he had seemed distant and vague, which worried the young woman.

"I guess that's why _he's _the one destined to fight Voldemort to the death, not us," Draco told his wife grimly.

"He could really hurt someone though.  I mean, he could seriously hurt someone without actually meaning to do it, couldn't he?" asked Ron, slowly.

"What are you getting at Ronald Weasley?" Hermione asked her husband suspiciously.

"I just mean that...well...what if we were sparring together, with hexes and curses like we used to do, and he ended up hurting one of us—" Ron began to explain before he was interrupted quite firmly by the Headmaster.

"I believe that Harry has more control over his magic than you give him credit for."

"You know, I'd always thought 'Jason' was just a little too well-trained for his story about fighting the war against Voldemort in Australia to ring true. They barely even saw the war over there," muttered Hermione, her brows creased in thought, a look that her husband always said reminded him of when she was studying with him as a student. "But he's so different. We saw him fight a few times when we were still in school and it's nothing like the way he fights now. He seems so...hard...now. Remember when he got rid of the shadow creature that attacked Severus at Christmas? Or when he threatened Walter with a hypodermic needle last night? He just seemed as cold as ice. I don't remember Harry ever being like that. _Ever_."

"Did you monitor Harry's progress while he was training?" Ginny asked the Headmaster, looking closely at him.

"Not directly. I did not want to be able to lead anybody to him. I did contact his instructors periodically to ensure that he was coping though," Albus explained, looking a little uncomfortable.

"And _was _he coping?" Hermione asked quickly.

"His instructors reported that he seemed to be fine—a  little lonely and frightened, but that was to be expected."

"Did he know that we weren't allowed to contact him? From what he said, it sounds like he thinks we _chose _not to try and reach him," Hermione pressed on.

"I explained to him before he left that he would be on his own for a time but that it was necessary. He said he understood. In any case, I left him with people who could be trusted to care for him," Albus explained quietly.

"He didn't have us and he'd just lost Sirius too," Ginny thought aloud, "No wonder he was so angry. A group of instructors wouldn't have been much help to him. He needed his _friends_."

"Unfortunately, it was too dangerous to do it any other way," Albus told them sadly.

"In any case, from what I've seen, he certainly received quite an education. Is that the way you intended him to be trained?" Hermione asked the Headmaster.

"Not entirely. I wanted him to hone his skills, certainly, but I left it to his instructors to teach him what they thought he would need to learn. I can see why they taught him so much about the dark arts, though. Voldemort was a strong practitioner of the dark arts and one cannot defend against them if one does not know about them," Albus replied, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Jason—I mean Harry—said the same thing," Hermione gasped.

"Yes, I know. However, I do not know the details of his years of training. I understand that at some point, he had more or less taken his own training in hand and only called his instructors periodically. I was informed that he acquired a collection of books, most of which were—and still are—illegal to own. They gave his training a dimension that it did not have until then. To be honest, I made a decision not to know the details of Harry's training. Voldemort was gathering so much strength, and if I was captured I did not want to be able to give Harry away," the Headmaster admitted.

"Be that as it may, why were you sending him on scouting trips? He was so young!" demanded Ginny. 

"He may have been young, but he was equal to the task. I gave him lessons myself before he left and if I was in any doubt, I would not have assigned him to the tasks, I assure you."

"I can see why he's so angry...but I'm still not happy with him for leaving," Hermione sighed sadly.

"Neither am I," fumed Ron.

"Before you bring all, or any, of this up with him, please ensure I am out of the room. I would rather not witness another Potter tantrum if you don't mind," Severus sneered maliciously, absently rubbing his dark mark.

"Severus, I said that will _do_," Albus reminded him.

"I think it is clear that neither Severus nor I will be able to gather information from the Dark Lord's inner circles any longer," Draco observed quietly.

"Yes, that much is certain," agreed Albus.

"In that case, what can _we _do?" Draco asked plaintively.

"You will do what you can, just as the rest of us will. Come now, this isn't the time to be discussing this. We have much to prepare," Albus instructed, bringing an end to any further conversation and leading them out of the classroom.

OOOOO

It was after midnight and Theresa still couldn't sleep. She couldn't shake the image of Harry screaming and clutching his head from her mind. Nor could she quite absorb the fact that her favourite professor was actually Harry Potter. Slipping quietly out of bed so she wouldn't wake her room mates, she put on her robe and headed out for a walk by the lake to try and clear her head.

The moon shone brightly, but she was too preoccupied to notice, or appreciate, it. In fact, she didn't even notice the lone figure sitting under the large oak tree by the lake until she was nearly upon them. The person she interrupted noticed _her _intrusion though.

"Lumos."

Theresa inhaled sharply, knowing she would be in big trouble if she was caught out of bed after curfew, and knowing that it was too late to try and hide.

"Theresa?" Harry asked, his throat still sore and his voice husky and strained. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn the day before, though they were decidedly wrinkled from having been slept in. If he were less weary and more alert, he might have felt embarrassed. Then again, if he was more alert, a student wouldn't have been able to surprise him.

"Professor Green?" Theresa spluttered, relieved that it was Professor Green who had caught her out of bed after hours and not someone like Professor Snape, but also a little embarrassed that her favourite professor had seen her in her most un-flattering flannelette pyjamas.

"What are you doing out at this time of the night?"

"Ah, sir, I just couldn't sleep. I didn't mean to interrupt you..."

Harry sighed. "You're not interrupting me."

He extinguished the light from his wand and leaned back against the tree, looking up at the sky. "Do you see that cluster of stars up there, to the right? And the one star near the moon? That's Sirius, the dog star. It always shows up clearly when the full moon approaches," Harry observed a little sadly.

"Oh, I didn't know that. It's quite a big constellation, isn't it?" Theresa asked, seating herself by Harry.

She looked pensively at her professor for some time before looking away to stare into the lake. "I found out who you really are yesterday, so I think it's only fair that you know about me. My name isn't really 'Theresa Chan'. I mean it is, sort of. My parents had it changed when I was very young. Dad was Minister Cornelius Fudge's brother. When I was about two years old, we moved to live in the muggle world for a little while, and he changed his surname, and mine, to my Mum's maiden name, 'Chan'. When I was old enough to understand, he told me that he didn't want us to be associated with the minister anymore and that he was tired of not having any privacy. If I were 'Theresa Fudge', I'd probably be expected to behave differently, but since I'm 'Theresa Chan', no one really cares how I behave, or who I make friends with, or what I do."

"I had no idea that you were related to the minister," Harry said, looking at her closely.

"Not many people do, and if they did, they probably wouldn't look past that," the young girl told him, still looking at the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the lake. "Dad used to say that it was liberating being a 'Chan'."

_I know what he means_, Harry thought wistfully.

"I-I saw Professor Weasley get mad at you for coming here as 'Professor Green' instead of 'Harry Potter', but considering everything I've read and heard about you, I sort of understand why you might have done that. I would have done it that way, too," Theresa said a little nervously, hoping Harry wouldn't mind her commenting on what was obviously a private matter between two men.

Theresa's compassion and understanding was a stark contrast to the anger of his closest friends and it touched him to the quick.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Um, sir, you should know that a few other students also heard some of the professors saying that you were Harry Potter while we were all in the room and they told a few of their friends, who told a few of their friends, who told a few of their friends, and...well...now everyone in the school knows who you are," Theresa explained nervously.

"Terrific," Harry muttered to himself.

"But most people think it's really cool that we have _you _as our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. A lot of people changed their name to 'Harry Potter' after the war ended, and we've had a few 'Professor Potters' but it was obvious that they weren't the real thing because, well, we didn't really learn anything from them."

Harry lifted his hand to his forehead and massaged his scar while Theresa looked on with interest. Under the light of the moon, the young girl was able to see that her professor looked far too pale and had dark rings under his eyes.

"You're not going to be leaving us, are you?" she asked him, half afraid of what his answer might be.

The young professor paused before answering the question. "I _did _think about leaving, but I guess here is as good a place to stay as any.  So no, I'm not going anywhere," he finally reassured her.

"Good," she nodded, letting go of the breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. "I guess I should head back to bed. I didn't mean to disturb you, sir," she said, feeling a little less upset now that she knew that her favourite professor wasn't leaving Hogwarts. She'd come to look up to her professor as an older brother, of sorts. He didn't act like a typical professor, he acted more like someone their age and he treated all of his students as friends and equals, rather than as children. She'd be sad to see him leave, as would a lot of his students.

"Do you know any good jokes, Sirius? I could really use one right now," Harry mumbled at the sky after Theresa had left.

OOOOO

Harry had spent the whole night by the lake and had only returned to his rooms when the sun had risen. He'd just turned the shower taps on when he heard someone knocking on his door.

"Sod off!" he yelled out, irritating his already raw throat and knowing full well that the silencing spell he'd placed over his rooms would prevent whoever was at the door from hearing it. Still, it made him feel better to yell at them. The hot shower did little to wash away his exhaustion. When he looked in front of the mirror, he still saw that he looked like hell. The potions he had taken yesterday had helped, but experience had taught him that potions weren't very effective when his scar gave him a lot of trouble, though they were better than nothing. In any case, he'd definitely be looking for another headache potion later on.

"Oh would you _bugger off_!" Harry cried out to the person who was still knocking on his door before he threw his glasses onto his face and stormed across the room to answer the door, certain that he'd never know any peace if he didn't find out what they wanted. He yanked open the door, fully intending to give the person on the other side a piece of his mind—and barely managed to stop himself from swearing at full volume at Theresa, who was looking a little flustered and juggling an arm load of vials and a big silver thermos.

"I-I'm sorry, professor, I hope I'm not interrupting and that you're not angry, but I just thought that—wow," she stopped, staring at Harry with her mouth open for a few moments. "Your eyes, they're..." she spluttered, mentally cursing herself for sounding so stupid.

"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbled, reaching up to adjust his glasses.

The young girl shook her head to snap herself back to the present. "I'm sorry for disturbing you like this. I—well, you didn't look well last night, so I brought these. I've got some potions and a big flask of honey tea, for your throat," she said quickly, holding her arms out so he could see what she was carrying and nearly dropping everything in the process.

Harry blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes," she replied shyly, looking down at her feet.

Harry was about to take the potions and flask from her, but stopped. If he hadn't heard her candid admission under veritaserum that she didn't have any romantic feelings for him, he would be very worried about her behaviour. But as she had been one of the only people who hadn't judged him harshly for his decision to return to the wizarding world in disguise, he refused to throw her generosity back at her by simply taking the vials and closing the door on her.

"Why don't you join me for a cup of tea in my classroom? Just let me get some cups," he suggested, pulling his wand out of the waistband of his trousers and summoning two coffee mugs to him.

"I should have thought about bringing cups," Theresa admitted.

"Here, let me take those from you too," the young professor offered, locking his door behind him and leading the way down the corridor, levitating the Theresa's vials and thermos in front of him.

_I'm such a dunce! I should have thought of doing that too!_ she silently berated herself before running to catch up with Harry.

OOOOO

Harry and Theresa pushed two of the student desks together and arranged mugs, thermos and vials between them.

"I got a few calming draughts and headache potions from Madam Pomfrey yesterday. No one gave you any while I was there and I wasn't sure whether they gave you any afterwards," the young girl admitted to Harry as she fussed over the vials. "I knocked on your door yesterday evening after dinner but you didn't answer, so I thought you might have been asleep or something. Um, you still looked unwell when I talked to you by the lake so I thought I'd just come down and see if you wanted to take any..." she rushed on.

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely, gulping down one of the headache potions and wincing at the taste. His student stifled a giggle and handed him a cup of tea.

"I put a heating charm on the thermos just before I came down to see you, so it's still nice and warm," she explained, blowing on her tea and sipping it carefully.

Harry blew gently and took a long sip from his mug. "This is really very good," he said, giving her a small smile, the first real smile he'd smiled since his cover had been blown.

They sipped their tea in comfortable silence, neither of them feeling the need to talk very much, and neither of them noticing the two figures watching them from the door.

"Am I seeing what I _think _I'm seeing?" Draco asked Severus, watching teacher and student intently. "She did say under veritaserum that there was nothing going on between them, didn't she?"

"She did," Severus affirmed.

"Should we talk to her? May find out what this is all about?" Draco suggested.

"Perhaps we should wait and see what happens here first," the older professor replied, never taking his eyes off the unsuspecting pair in front of him.

"Alright. That might be best," Draco reluctantly agreed.

OOOOO

Harry noticed Theresa watching him while he was massaging his scar. "It's nothing, it's just annoying me."

"Yesterday in the classroom, when you were, well, knocked out, Mrs. Malfoy showed me where your scar was and she said it should have been darker than it was. Did something happen to it, because I could barely see it?" Theresa asked cautiously, not wanting to sound rude, but at the same time genuinely curious.

"Did she?" Harry asked, sipping his tea. "Nothing happened to it, as such," he said evasively.

"I didn't mean to pry," Theresa apologised, blushing in embarrassment.

"No, you know who I really am, so I guess it's only natural that you'd notice a few things. My scar is very well known and very recognisable. So am I for that matter," Harry grimaced.

"There certainly _are _a lot of pictures of you out there," the young girl added sympathetically.

"Tell me about it. There's no point changing my name if everyone is still going to be able to recognise me, so I changed my appearance too. My scar can't be concealed completely, there's too much magic in it, but I think I did a good job of hiding it this time. It's only a faint line and you'd have to look closely to see it. No one even noticed it until yesterday." Harry explained.

"So do you look like all the pictures in the textbooks and magazines—with the dark hair and the glasses?" Theresa asked, her curiosity once again getting the better of her.

"I'm a little bit older than the pictures. I've seen a few of them and they look like they were taken while I was at school, but the hair is the same—unfortunately," Harry sighed.

Theresa nodded, sipping her tea. Making sure her professor had pain killing potions was only one of the reasons she wanted to see him this morning. There was something she needed to show him before he went to the Hall.

"Er, professor, I was wondering...have you seen the Daily Prophet this morning?" she asked, unable to look at him.

"No, not yet. I was going to pick one up later on."

"Er, before you do anything, you might want to take a look at this," she said nervously, pulling her copy out from under her robes and handing it to him. The front page carried the story: _Boy-Who-Lived Returns to Hogwarts—Hero Welcomed Back._

"Bloody hell," groaned Harry as he read the article which told anybody and everybody that he had revealed his real identity yesterday after having spent some months teaching at Hogwarts as "Professor Jason Green", the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

The muscles in the young man's jaw clenched and unclenched almost unconsciously as he read the article.

"_You _were all the students could talk about yesterday afternoon. Some of them just have written to their parents about you and one of them must have contacted the Daily Prophet and let them know as well. I thought you should read that before you found out about it from someone else," Theresa said seriously.

"DAMN IT!" he cried, slamming his fist down on the table, making Theresa jump.

_"What _seems to be the matter here?" Professor Snape interrupted loudly, stepping into the classroom with Draco behind him. They hadn't been able to hear what Harry and Theresa had been saying, but they had heard Harry's outburst and were a little apprehensive to leave their student with an angry Harry Potter after having witnessed Harry's display yesterday.

"Have you seen this?!" Harry demanded, waving the paper at the two men. Severus took the newspaper from Harry and skimmed the article.

"Just another headline to add to your ever-growing scrapbook collection, _Potter_," the Potions Master said coolly, arching an eyebrow at his former student.

Harry levelled a glare at the older man who, to all outward appearances, remained completely unaffected. With a small gesture of his hand, Harry set fire to the newspaper, watching until it burned down to a pile of ashes and then turning that pile of ashes into a goblet. The others stared in wide eyed surprise at the display of wandless magic.

"Wow," breathed Theresa.

"I agree," Draco added before shaking his head to clear it. "Are you alright?" he asked Theresa quietly.

"Yes, sir. I was just having a cup of tea with the Professor."

"Do you often have tea with the Professor?" Draco asked in some surprise.

"No, but I thought that his throat might be sore from...yesterday...so I made him some honey tea."

"That was awfully nice of you," Draco said gently, "But you do know who he is, don't you?"

"Yes, sir, I do," she said firmly. She noticed Harry heading for the door and called out to warn him. "Professor! If you're going to the great hall, there are probably about a hundred journalists in there right now and I don't think they're going to leave until they get a chance to talk to you."

"Fantastic. Why did Albus let them in?" Harry asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

"It is quite obvious. If the Headmaster did not let them in, he would be seen to be hiding you," Severus said with a sneer, "I would have thought this sort of thing would be right up your alley."

Harry glared at his former professor before removing his concealment spell with a soft murmur and a flick of his wrist.

"It really _is _you," Draco breathed. "But you look a bit different. Though I guess eleven years brings a few changes with it, doesn't it Severus?" The Potion Master's demeanour was enough to silence the young blond, and he was a little unsure of what to make of his friend's reaction. Severus had paled considerably, and the muscles in his jaw were clenching and unclenching so rapidly that they looked like they were going into spasms. The formidable professor's nostrils flared menacingly as he breathed heavily, his hands contracting into unwrenchable fists. 

"Er..." Draco began, trying desperately to think of a way to head off the disaster that was looming over them.

Severus narrowed his eyes and glared at Draco, who shut his mouth and re-directed his energies into thinking of a way to break the news to Albus that he'd need to look for two new professors because Severus and Harry had killed each other and demolished a sizeable part of one of the hallways in the classroom as well.

The goblet that Harry had just transfigured shattered into a thousand shards.

"Severus, remember where you are," Draco said quietly, nodding in Theresa's direction to indicate that she was still in the room.

The Potions Master nodded his head curtly and visibly relaxed somewhat.

"Showing off, Potter?" he sneered, finally able to verbalise his reaction to the dramatic reappearance of his long-time adversary.  But, in obvious deference to Theresa, the question lacked much of his usual venom and was filled with hints of self-restraint.

"I had no idea you were so easily impressed," Harry said coolly. "There's no longer any reason to wear my concealment charms."

Theresa had been staring in a wide-eyed stupour at Harry, taking in his appearance and reconciling it with the pictures she'd seen of him. Finally she caught his eye and nodded her head, as if to say 'Yes, that's much better now.'

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be in the hall," Harry told his student. "Just stay away from the journalists and from anyone asking questions. I don't want you involved in this…_idiocy_!"

"Alright," the young girl nodded. She recognised an invitation to leave when she heard one, and began carefully gathering up the potion vials and the thermos she had brought with her.

"If you leave everything here, I'll shrink them for now and lock them in my desk. Come and see me later on and I'll return them to you."

With a final look at the three men, she silently left the room.

"Were you _spying_ on me?" Harry asked Severus and Draco once he was sure Theresa had left and wasn't standing in the corridor.  "I don't like being spied upon."

Severus glared. "What you like, or what you don't like, is no concern of mine."

Harry narrowed his eyes and returned his former professor's glare unflinchingly. "Does he speak for both of you?" Harry asked, shifting his gaze to Draco.

"Er…I've got nothing to do with this. Severus is speaking for himself, I've still got a lot to think through," Draco said, startled by the harshness of Harry's expression. He'd seen Harry angry plenty of times during their time together at school, but he had never seen him look quite like this, and it frightened him just a little.

Harry sighed heavily and quickly secured Theresa's vials and thermos in his desk. "So we're back to _this,_ are we?" he quietly asked Severus.

"If you are looking for special treatment, you will need to look elsewhere, Potter! I have never believed you to be a special case and my opinion has not changed," Severus hissed.

Sensing that the conversation was only going to become more hostile, Draco quickly magically locked the classroom and raised a silencing spell over the entire room and then made sure that he was standing far enough away from the two men so that he couldn't accidentally be drawn into their argument.

Harry blinked in surprise. "You're mistaken, _Professor_. I have _never _asked for special treatment. I don't want it–I never have."

The momentary look of shock that passed over Harry's face did not go unnoticed by Draco and he privately wondered why Severus' words would surprise Harry. The Potions Master had made his sentiments clear on any number of occasions, whether or not Harry was within earshot.

"It is quite clear that it is _you _who is mistaken. You have always thought of yourself as quite the celebrity. From the very first day you entered this school you considered yourself above the rules and you have always done as you pleased. It is obvious that nothing has changed."

"You've got to be kidding," Harry said, rubbing his sore and tired eyes.

"I am not. You spent months among us, parading around in your elaborate disguise. Very well. Congratulations, Potter, you have made fools of us all. However, if you think yourself quite clever, let me assure you that you are mistaken," the older man spat.

"It was necessary," Harry said quietly.

"They were the actions of a _coward_! You chose to hide, rather than face the world like a man, and you continued to hide even when we learned of the Dark Lord's continued existence, even though your role in this struggle against him has been reserved for you since before you were born!"

"You don't need to remind me of my _role _in this _struggle_—it's hardly something I'm likely to forget," Harry said in cold, quiet tones.

"I think –" Severus began.

"And how dare you talk to me about _cowardice_!" Harry continued, ignoring the interruption.

"If cowardice did not prompt your decision to hide, then pray tell, what did?"

"It wasn't a matter of hiding. It was a matter of self-preservation."

"They are one and the same thing."

"That's a ridiculous assessment – particularly coming from _you_, Professor. They're worlds apart and I would think that _you _are the _last _person who should be censuring me for fooling people into thinking that I'm someone I'm not. After all, that was something you were particularly good at, if your good fortune to be alive after spying on Voldemort is anything to go by."

"There can never be any comparison between myself and your–"

"And I would _never _compare myself to _you_," Potter interrupted. "I must say when I thought about how everybody would react if I ever came back here, I never expected you to be like…_this_. I expected you to be a little disappointed that I'm still alive, although in light of Voldemort's return, maybe you're not too disappointed after all. And I knew you'd be pissed as hell that I interrupted your 'Potter-free' world but I thought we'd just go back to being snarky with each other and maybe throwing the occasional one-line insult at each other, like we used to do when I was your student, and like you and 'Jason' used to do when 'Professor Green' started to teach here."

Severus raised an eyebrow and glared daggers at Harry.

"My point is; I knew you were a bastard, I just didn't expect you to be an openly argumentative and…hostile…bastard," Harry clarified, absently massaging his forehead.

"I do not appreciate being _deceived_, Potter."

"I hope I'm not the only one in the room who can see the irony in that particular statement," Harry said, looking carefully at the older man for some moments. "So is this why you're so annoyed? Because I managed to pull one over you? I'll admit that you're a skilled wizard–both of you are–but I've had the benefit of a very…_interesting _education. If I don't want to be found, you won't find me, it doesn't matter how long you search or how skilled you are. Now, if you'll excuse me," the young man unlocked the door and left the room to face the circus waiting for him in the great hall.

"Don't take it so hard," said Draco, finally finding his voice again, and breaking the long stretch of silence that had settled over the two of them once Harry had left.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus snapped, arching an eyebrow.

"He fooled you, but whatever he did, it was fantastic, because I don't know of a single person who wasn't completely taken in. Even Ginny, Ron and Hermione were fooled, and they were his _best friends,_" Said Draco, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"And that, in itself, raises any number of questions, does it not?" the formidable professor asked, turning on his heels and storming out of the classroom. 

OOOOO

The reporters had been keeping an eye on the entrance to the great hall. It took them all a moment to recognise Harry when he stepped through the doors. It _had _been many years since anyone had seen him.  Once they realised who he was, the group of reporters and photographers seemed to rush toward him as one, all the while shouting questions at him and snapping pictures of him.

Harry's eyes began to water from the flash of cameras and his chest began to seize up when he saw the throng of people headed toward him. "Immobulus!" he cried, pulling out his wand and throwing a powerful spell at the group, stopping them in their tracks and giving him room to breathe.

Neither the students nor the staff in the hall moved. On the one hand, they could see that Harry had things well in hand, but on the other hand, they were just a little afraid that Harry might hex _them_ if they moved toward him. Everybody had heard stories of what Harry Potter was capable of and no one wanted to be on the wrong end of his temper.

The reporters and photographers weren't hurt, but couldn't move a muscle. They could still hear and see what was happening though, so Harry took this chance to talk to them.

"I don't like being hassled by reporters. I hated it when I was in school and I still hate it now. I know you're all going to be a pain in my side unless I give you something to write about, so this is what you can print. I didn't 'disappear' after the war, I travelled. I'd always wanted to visit Europe, America, Canada, and I even ended up living in Australia for a while. The reason no one recognised me was because I went in disguise. If I hadn't disguised myself, I'd have had every witch and wizard and every journalist following me around and I never would have been able to enjoy myself. Can you see my point? Hogwarts is a very special place for me and I came back here because I was starting to get a little home sick. I stayed in disguise because I enjoyed having some semblance of privacy," Harry told them pointedly, slightly twisting the facts, "but that's obviously not possible now."

He paused for a moment. "I read the article in this morning's _Daily Prophet _about my return to Hogwarts and since most of the article was a bald-faced lie I thought I'd clear a few things up. First of all, no one else was involved in my decision to do this and secondly, I'm not hiding from anyone. That should give you enough to print for a few days. Kindly respect my privacy. Stop following me and stop forcing your way into the school. If you don't, I'll personally make sure each and every one of you knows exactly how it feels to be hassled continually by a crowd of irritating reporters."

Satisfied that the journalists had heard his message—and unveiled threat—he cast Sonorus so that he could be heard in every room of the castle. "DOBBY! PLEASE COME TO THE GREAT HALL."

A moment later, Dobby appeared before him, his enormous eyes widening even further when he saw Harry.

"Harry Potter!" he squeaked, throwing himself into harry and giving him a big house-elf hug. "Dobby is so glad you is back! Dobby has missed you, sir!" he squeaked excitedly.

"I've missed you too, Dobby," Harry told him seriously. "Listen, can you do me a favour?"

"Anything for _you _sir," Dobby nodded.

"Can you grab a few more house elves and…_escort_ them off the school premises?" Harry asked, nodding toward the group of journalists. "Er, you don't necessarily have to undo the Immobulus spell until they're outside the school. In fact, I wouldn't mind even if you didn't remove the spell at all."

"Of course, sir," the house elf grinned, disappearing with a crack and then reappearing with about fifteen more elves.

"Come and see Dobby later, Harry Potter. Dobby has a present for you, sir!" the house-elf called out as he and the rest of the elves levitated the large group of reporters out of the hall.

Albus left his seat at the staff table and slowly approached Harry. "Are you staying with us…Harry?" he asked tentatively.

The young man paused before simply answering, "Yes."

The Headmaster turned and commanded the attention of everyone in the hall. "Students, staff, let me introduce you to Professor Harry Potter, our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

A few students began to clap, a little uncertainly, their numbers quickly multiplying. Soon nearly everyone in the hall had broken into thunderous applause, giving Potter a standing ovation. Harry's felt his throat tighten from the emotion, and, humbled by the display, he bowed slightly in acknowledgment.

"Thank you," he told everyone when the applause had died down and the staff and students were seated again.

"All classes have been cancelled today, but we will resume normal lessons tomorrow. There is nothing more to be done here, so please finish your breakfast and then enjoy the rest of the day. Mr. Potter, if you would please come with me," he finished, motioning for Harry to follow him out of the hall and into an empty classroom. He wove a silencing spell over the room. Harry looked idly around the room, absently noting the aged parchments hanging on the walls demonstrating complex theories and charts, along with the portraits of a few snooty looking witches and wizards—probably long dead and buried. He skimmed his eyes over the shelves of books lining most of the remaining spaces on the walls, and even read the homework assignment off the black board at the front of the room–anything to avoid having to look at Albus and have this conversation.

Albus studied the young man carefully, noting the way Harry looked everywhere but at him and feeling a pang of nostalgia for the young boy who had stood before him on so many occasions in the past and who had dealt with his nervousness and discomfort in exactly the same way.

"Harry," Albus finally said. Harry looked at the Headmaster impassively.

"My dear boy, I feel I owe you an explanation. And…an apology. When Voldemort returned twelve years ago your godfather and I reassembled the Order of the Phoenix, but despite our best efforts, he seemed to gather more and more power. It was becoming increasingly dangerous for you and your friends to remain at Hogwarts. The children of many suspected Death Eaters attended Hogwarts, and Crouch junior nearly succeeded in killing you during your fourth year here by disguising himself as Alastor Moody, which made me realise that I could not keep you, or the people around you, safe here. 

"At the time I believed that the best thing for you was to stay with people who could train you to defend yourself and to defeat Voldemort. I kept you well hidden because I believed that if Voldemort were to learn of your training, he would have torn the world apart looking for you, and many more people would have died. I could not allow that to happen, and, I think, you would agree with me. I made sure that I had very little contact with your instructors and that you were re-located at random intervals, and I also instructed your friends not to attempt to find you or to contact you. I did not want to be able to lead Voldemort to your doorstep before you were ready.

"In retrospect, I may have made a mistake sending you away all those years ago, but I did what I believed to be right at the time. I care for you very much, as I cared for your mother and father, and I could not bear it if I had been unable to keep you safe," Albus whispered.

Harry was stunned at the candid admission and more than a little moved that Albus cared about him, but shock quickly turned to frustration. _If Albus had been through what _I _went through during the war, he might re-think his claim that he kept me _safe_,_ Harry thought bitterly.

"I appreciate that you did what you thought was right, but it-it was a long time ago, and I really don't want to talk about it," the young man mumbled.

Albus levelled a piercing look at Harry. "In any case, with Voldemort's return, I think it would be a good idea for 'Harry Potter' to remain visible to everyone. The threat of your direct intervention might go some way to restraining his actions somewhat."

"You're forgetting that Voldemort knows I'm alive. We share a …_connection,_ and he'd be able to _feel_ that I'm alive," Harry pointed out.

"Could _you _feel his existence before yesterday?" Albus asked seriously.

Harry thought for a moment. "No. I thought he was dead. I couldn't feel anything…not a thing."

"When you were a student here, and he was thought to be dead, you could occasionally feel his presence, is that right?" Albus pressed.

"Come to think of it, yes I could," Harry said slowly. "Oh, actually, I have to admit that my scar _has _been twinging every now and then since the last battle, but it would usually only happen when I woke up from having dreamt about him."

The Headmaster's eyes widened slightly. "I thought you might have dreamt about him. How often does this happen? Shall I arrange for a stock of dreamless sleep potion to be sent to you?"

Harry closed his eyes wearily. "No. I've made my own arrangements, but thank you."

Albus narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"But as I was saying, I didn't think anything of the twinges. I just thought that they were a result of dreaming about…him." Harry finished.

"Why would you think that?" the Headmaster asked curiously.

Harry paused to think. If he had to be honest with himself he simply thought that since he'd always associated pain in his scar with visions of Voldemort, he assumed that if he dreamed about him, he would _also _experience the pain. For some reason, though, now that he was trying to explain his logic to Albus, it just didn't seem to make much sense anymore. "Er…well…I just assumed that I experienced the pain because I was dreaming of _Voldemort_, much the same way as I'd experience pain when I had visions associated with him."

"Knowing what we now know, I am more inclined to believe that you experience pain because Voldemort is still alive. In fact, I may even go so far as to suggest that he was able to influence your dreams even in his weakened state before his return," Albus said thoughtfully.

Harry's eyes widened. "Do you honestly think he could have done that?"

"I do not know," Albus said, "You did not answer my question; will you remain undisguised here?"

"I will, at least for now. It might make him a little more cautious, but I doubt he'll stay cautious for long," Harry agreed.

"I agree. I'm calling an Order meeting for 3:00 this afternoon. Will you come?" the Headmaster asked, a little hesitantly.

"I _am _a member, so I'll be there. Where is it being held?"

"It would be safest if we held it at our headquarters," Albus replied, suddenly very interested in removing the lint that had gathered on his robes.

"And where is _that _now?" Harry asked, throwing Albus an odd look.

The Headmaster hesitated for a moment. "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."

Harry inhaled sharply as he remembered the time he spent at his godfather's old house. "I shouldn't be surprised," he whispered. Sirius had left everything he owned to Harry and Remus when he'd died, but Harry had refused to claim his share of the estate, feeling too responsible for his godfather's death to be able to accept it. He'd transferred his share to Remus days before he'd left to undergo his training.

"It's Remus' home now, but he has allowed us to continue to use it as Order headquarters. In light of the number of anti-muggle wards and concealment wards Sirius' family placed on the house, Remus agrees that there really is no better place to use as headquarters." Albus paused. "He wants to see you very much and he will be at home all day if you wish to see him before the meeting," he suggested lightly

"I have some matters to attend to before the meeting this afternoon. I will see you then," the Headmaster said quietly before leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind him, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

OOOOO

"Where is Harry?" Minerva asked Albus when he returned to his seat at the staff breakfast table. Most of the staff members had left, as had most of the students, but some of the Order members wanted to speak to the Headmaster before they left the hall.

"I left him in one of the empty classrooms, but I don't imagine he will stay there for very long. He will be joining us for the meeting in the afternoon, though." Albus said quietly.

"So you told him where we'll be meeting then," Ginny said, more as a statement than as a question.

"Yes," Albus replied simply, buttering a piece of toast.

"How did he take it?" Ginny pressed.

Albus paused. "I think he was a little upset, but he didn't look _too _surprised."

"Why should he even care? He left all of this behind, remember? He left all of _us_! Why would he care about any of this at all?" Ron spat, stabbing a fork at the remains of his breakfast.

"Ronald Weasley, you never cease to amaze me by showing me how much of a foolish prat you can be," Ginny whispered harshly. "You and I are going to have a long talk, _right now_," she told him, leaping to her feet, grabbing his ear and using it to drag him out of the Hall, oblivious of the few remaining students.

"We'd better go with them," Hermione sighed to Draco, "It's likely to get violent if we're not there."

"It's likely to get violent even _if _we're there," he muttered, pushing back his own seat and following Hermione out of the hall.

OOOOO

"I can't believe you just did that in front of the students!" Ron yelled at Ginny once she'd dragged him into the rooms she shared with Draco and threw him onto the lounge.

"Why don't you start by telling me what your problem is?" she asked, hands on hips.

"Wh –" Ron began before he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

"Oops, sorry guys. Don't stop on our account," Hermione explained, seating herself next to Draco and a good distance away from the two siblings.

"Well?" Ginny demanded of her brother.

"I don't _have _a problem!"

"Ha! Every time I mention Harry –"

"I don't want to talk about _him_," Ron said stubbornly, standing up to face his sister.

"_This _is what I'm talking about. What is wrong with you?"

"What do you _think _is wrong?" Ron snarled.

"You're angry at him because he left without a word to you, that's it, isn't it?" Ginny asked in gentler tones.

Ron looked away without responding.

"He doesn't have to answer to you; he can do what he likes. He was technically an adult when he left, old enough to make his own decisions."

"He left all of us! What does that tell you? It tells _me _that he doesn't care! If he did, he wouldn't have just picked up and left. He would have said something, or at least dropped us a line. He could have been _dead_ for all we knew," Ron cried, throwing his hands up and pacing the length of the room. "I loved him like a brother and he threw it all back in my face, Ginny! You of all people should know what I'm talking about."

"You don't honestly think that's what really happened, do you?" Ginny asked, looking carefully at her brother.

"Yes!" he shouted.

"Yes," Hermione echoed quietly, in reluctant admittance.

"I loved him too, and of _course _I was upset when he left, but I'm just so _relieved_ that he's still alive. He wouldn't have left because of _us_. If he really didn't care about us, he wouldn't have come back and 'Jason' wouldn't have made friends with us," Ginny said quietly.

"Yeah, he didn't _have _to spend time with us, but he did, didn't he? He didn't have to spend time with _me _either, but he did that too," Draco noted, deep in thought.

Ginny nodded silently at her husband and her sister-in-law, who also had her brows furrowed in concentration.

"That doesn't excuse what he did. _I _would have told him if _I'd _planned to leave," Ron said stubbornly.

"Oh for goodness' sake! You're _not him_, and none of us could _ever _understand what it's like to _be _him. Look how much he's changed since we last saw him. You were his best friends, and he was like a brother to me, and none of us recognised him for who he was. Even _Albus_ didn't recognise him," Ginny cried.

"He must be pretty pleased with himself. He fooled all of us. I'll bet he's having a good laugh," Ron fumed.

Ginny levelled a look at her brother that spoke volumes. "He doesn't look 'pleased with himself' to me. He might have changed, but deep down, where it counts, he's still Harry, and Harry would _never_ go out of his way to hurt us."

Ron glared skeptically at his sister.

"Look, I know you're angry–so am I–but if you ever want to find out why he left, and if you ever want to stay friends with him, give him a break,"  Ginny told her brother.

"Okay?" she pressed when Ron looked away from her again. Make no mistake about it, Ginny was at least as angry as her brother was, but her years with Draco had made her appreciate that things aren't always what they seem to be at first glance.  She hoped that this was the case here.

"Fine," Ron grumbled.

"We'll be able to talk to him this afternoon at the meeting, so maybe we can clear a few things up then," Hermione suggested from the far side of the room.

"Maybe," Ginny agreed, with a significant look at her brother who was still pacing the room and grumbling.

OOOOO

Harry made his way wearily back to his own classroom and fished out one of the calming potions that Theresa had left for him earlier that morning, downing it in one gulp. He definitely needed something to steady his nerves before he met with Remus. Since news of his return was public knowledge, there was no point trying to hide from him, and truth be told, he had missed the Marauder in the years he'd been absent from this place. There was no doubt that he wanted to see him again, but he feared his reaction. If his friends' reactions were anything to go by, he wasn't looking forward to what Remus would say and do.

Floo was, by far, the quickest way to travel, even if it wasn't the most comfortable mode of wizard transportation. So Harry made his way to the only classroom with its own fireplace. Once he had checked that the room was empty, he quickly moved to stand in front of the fire place and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the urn behind the umbrella stand.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," he said clearly, trying not to choke on the dust as he was zoomed to his destination. The fireplace at the Order headquarters spat him out and he landed with a dusty thump on the rug in front of the fireplace.

OOOOO

He looked at the room in which he was standing, noting the changes that had been made since he was last here. The ugly portraits of the various members of the Black family–including the infamous portrait of Sirius' mum–were gone, and in their place were beautiful landscape paintings. The heads of generations of the Black family's house elves that had been stuffed and mounted over the fire place had been removed, and replaced with photographs of various people, all smiling and waving from their frames. In fact, photographs covered just about every surface in the room. Harry dusted himself off and moved to have a closer look at some of them.

"Oh my God," he gasped, feeling his eyes sting. He put a hand on the grand piano in front of him to steady himself as he, his mum, his dad, his godfather and Remus stared back at him from the rows of photographs displayed on the flat of the piano.

He picked one of them up and lightly touched the glass, wishing he could touch the people inside the frame. James was lying on a big furry rug on his back, and Harry was sitting on his father's chest. James was laughing and gently holding Harry's hands, swinging them from side to side, as if he were trying to dance with his baby son.  Lily was sitting next to her husband, smiling fondly at her two boys and holding tightly onto her son's waist so he wouldn't fall off.

Harry's heart contracted painfully at the sight. He put the photo down and picked up a folding double frame. On one side there was a picture of Sirius, clad head-to-toe in black leather sitting on his motorcycle, and baby Harry riding securely in the back of his jacket—only his head and arms peeking out from the top. Sirius had a tight grip on Harry's hands and was bouncing him up and down while Harry laughed. On the other side, Remus was giving Harry a horsey-ride while Sirius held onto Harry, making sure he didn't fall off Remus' back.

First one tear, then another, splashed onto the frames and Harry quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand, not aware until then that he'd allowed his tears to spill over. He returned the photos to their proper place and looked slowly at the rest of them. There were some of his mum and dad, and some of the Marauders as a group and then photos of just James, Lily and Sirius. There were even some photos of Harry that had been taken while he was at school, probably by Colin Creevey.

He picked one up of Sirius and him decorating a Christmas tree the very last time he had been in this house–actually they were doing more to tangle each other up in the tinsel than decorate the tree. Harry smiled fondly at the visual memory, and was lost so far in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Remus come into the room.

"You're a little early for the meeting, it's not until three o'clock but –" Remus began before he faltered. God how he had missed this boy– no, this _young man_–over the years and now here he was. He'd forgotten how closely Harry resembled his father's appearance. In fact, for one irrational moment when he entered the room, he was almost convinced he'd seen James standing in front of his piano.  _Almost_.

Remus startled Harry so much, that he dropped the photo he was holding and knocked over a few more in his effort to retrieve it.

"Harry?" Remus asked, tentatively. The young man looked at him with a look of such fear and desperation that Remus could do nothing but look back at him in disbelief.

"Harry?" Remus hesitantly asked again, taking a small step closer toward him. Harry tried to move back, but he was already standing up against the piano and he couldn't move any further.

"Remus, I'm –" he spluttered, turning around to rearrange the photos he'd knocked over earlier. The Marauder crossed the room and wordlessly put a hand on his shoulder. Harry flinched a little, but stayed where he was.

"That one's my favourite," Remus said, indicating the one Harry had in his hand, where he was sitting up on his father's chest.

Harry stopped what he was doing and just stared at the photograph. "I still miss them. I didn't even know them and I still miss them. And Sirius," the young man added in a whisper. His hand trembled as he placed the photo carefully in front of the others on the piano.

The two men stood in silence, looking at the smiling people in the photographs before them and losing themselves in a sea of memories, some good and some unpleasant.

"It's not fair," Harry hissed, clenching his fists by his side. "It's not fair that they're all dead…and I'm still here."

"It was a dark time, and we all knew the risks involved in what we were doing." Remus told him.

"But they all died trying to keep me alive. They all died…because of _me_," Harry whispered.

Remus' grip on Harry's shoulder tightened and he turned Harry around to face him, taken aback at the depth of pain he saw in Harry's eyes when he looked into them. "Listen to me. They died because of _Voldemort_, not you. If you want to blame anyone, blame _him._"

"I can't," Harry whispered, a tear coursing down his cheek. Remus looked closely at the young man and pulled him into a hug. For a moment, Harry seemed to jerk back, but he quickly leaned into the hug given by his old friend, drawing on the love and support being offered. They stayed like that for a long time, neither one wanting to move until Harry's stomach gave a loud rumble, objecting to the fact that he'd skipped dinner the evening before, and breakfast this morning.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled somewhat sheepishly, pulling out of the hug.

Remus held him at arm's length, taking a good look at him. "I've missed you. Look how you've grown. You're a young man now, and quite handsome at that," he grinned. "You look a lot like your father, but I can definitely see your mother in you as well." _Neither one of them every looked as _haunted_ as you do now, though,_ Remus thought grimly to himself. "Come into the kitchen and I'll fix an early lunch for us," he invited.

Harry was taken aback. After everybody's reaction to his return yesterday, this wasn't the reception he was expecting to receive. "But…aren't you _angry_?" Harry asked him, his brows creased in obvious confusion.

Remus looked long and hard at Harry and finally sighed heavily. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't upset when you left and that I wasn't upset that you didn't try and keep in touch with me. I assumed you had your reasons for doing what you did, though. I'm just happy to see you again," Remus looked into Harry's eyes and shuddered when he saw the pain and guilt reflected in them. They say that the eyes are the windows to a person's soul, and the older man didn't like what he saw in them. Concern quickly replaced the anger he'd felt when he learned that Harry had been with them for quite some time but had refused to contact them.

"Nothing has changed. I care about you just as much as I always have, and if you need _anything_ I'm right here, I want you to know that."

"I don't know what to say. I-I-I've missed you too. It wasn't personal…I just _needed_ to leave. I…" Harry mumbled apologetically. _Come on. You should be angry with me. Everyone else is, and Lord knows I deserve it._

Remus frowned. He couldn't imagine why on earth Harry would feel like he _needed_ to leave. He didn't share his concerns with his best friend's son though–he had just found Harry again, and he didn't want to push him away by fussing over him too much, so he forced a smile and put one arm around the young man's shoulder.

"Just come and have some lunch and tell me about what you've been doing with yourself since I last saw you,"he persisted, leading Harry to his kitchen. Harry leaned into Remus, seeming to draw strength from the touch of his father's best friend, and feeling in some small way, almost connected to his father through it.

OOOOO

Lunch was simple and quiet, and Remus listened while Harry told him bits and pieces about the life he led in the muggle world. Once the dishes were stacked by the side of the sink, they both moved to the sitting room, each nursing a mug of coffee.

"I _still _can't believe you became a pharmacologist. I thought you hated that sort of thing. I was sure you'd choose a career as a professor in Defence Against the Dark Arts or Care of Magical Creatures."

"No, I love pharmacology. There's just something to do with learning about medicines that appeals to me."

"You'd _have _to find it appealing to be able to stay awake while you were studying it," Remus noted dryly.

Harry managed a weak grin. "I really like what you've done with the house," he said, steering the conversation away from himself and looking around him.

"Do you? Sirius hated this place, and the last time he was here he was talking about fixing it up. His favourite place in the whole world was the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts and he wanted to try and make this place look like that. Since he couldn't do it, I tried to do it _for _him," Remus said wistfully.

Harry forced himself to swallow the familiar lump in his throat that appeared whenever he thought about his godfather. "You did a great job."

"Thank you. Your father wanted to do something similar to the house he shared with you and your mother, but your mother wouldn't hear of it. She and her friends decorated the house instead, 'free from all Marauder influence' as she put it."

Harry looked thoughtfully into his coffee. "Tell me about my parents, and Sirius. Please. I _miss _them, but I didn't really _know _them."

_No one should grow up without knowing their family. It's just not right,_ Remus thought sadly. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Tell me everything," Harry burst out. "A long time ago you told me that Dad was an arrogant berk in school. He wasn't like that _all _the time, was he?"

"Of course not. He was one of the most selfless people I've ever known in my life," Remus began, recalling the time the years he spent with his best friends. "I met him in our first class together…"

OOOOO

Remus had been staring for a long time at the young man who had fallen asleep on his couch. He had been searching for Harry since he had left the wizarding world eight years ago, and had feared the worst when his searches turned up nothing. When Ginny had told him that Harry had turned up at Hogwarts, he had felt pained that the young man hadn't contacted him in all the time he had been here, and overjoyed that he hadn't lost Harry after all.

It was hard to believe that this was the same boy he'd met so many years ago on the train to Hogwarts at the beginning of Harry's third year. His mind staggered at the differences between the young boy he became friends with, and the young man he saw before him today. He remembered what he saw in Harry's eyes and it tore at his heart.

Harry was seated at the edge of the lounge chair, leaning back into the cushion. His head was nodded forward and his chin was resting on his chest, his glasses halfway down his nose. Remus moved over to sit next to him, gently removing his glasses and setting them down onto the coffee table in front of them. Harry didn't stir an inch, so Remus put his arm around the young man's shoulders and drew him over so that he could lean against him. Harry sighed deeply, moving so that he was comfortable and Remus gently stroked Harry's hair out of his eyes, remembering a conversation he'd had with James and Lily a few weeks after Lily had given birth.

_"Prongs, you're going to have to put Harry down eventually. You can't carry him everywhere, you know. One day he'll learn to walk and _then _what will you do?" Remus asked, shaking his head._

_"Then I'll stop carrying him and I'll start holding his hand," James replied, looking proudly at his son, so much so that he gave his wife the briefest of glances when she came into the room. "Oh, hi honey."_

_"He's been this way since we brought Harry home. He won't let him out of his sight, even for a minute," she sighed, looking fondly at her husband who only had eyes for his son._

_"I can't help it, he's just so precious. Look at him. He's perfect," James said softly, tickling Harry's tummy._

"Don't worry, I'll look after your boy, I promise," Remus vowed quietly, staring ahead of him and losing himself in idle reminiscences.

OOOOO

A loud whooshing noise followed by a heavy thump announced the early arrival of someone in the next room. 

"Oh, how sickeningly sweet," Professor Snape sneered, standing in the doorway of the lounge room, looking at Remus and Harry.

"Ssh," Remus warned the Potions Master, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Yes, we wouldn't want to wake Potter from his nap."

"I don't think you quite understand."

"Nor do I care. I have your potions for you," Severus said, practically thrusting the rack of vials at Remus. The full moon was fast approaching and Remus was thoroughly indebted to Severus' potion which made his transformations less painful, allowing him to keep his mind during those transformations.

"Thank you. Just put them anywhere for now, I'll put them away later," Remus said quietly.

Severus fixed the two men before him with a disdainful glare. "I should have known that you would be the one to coddle him now that he has returned."

"I don't see this as coddling. I see this as necessary," Remus disagreed.

"Nothing has changed –" Severus began, before Harry stirred next to Remus, grunting slightly as he sat up and began clumsily looking for his glasses.

"They're on the coffee table in front of you," Remus suggested helpfully.

"Thanks," he nodded gratefully, throwing his glasses onto his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on your –" Harry began, stopping when he saw Severus standing in the doorway.

"Professor," he acknowledged coolly, politely nodding his head.

"Potter," the Potions Master spat, his voice full of derision. "Allow me to convey my sincerest _apologies _for interrupting your _nap_."

"I wasn't napping," Harry told him, his face impassive.

"It appears you have found the special attention you think you deserve at the hands of your father's comrade-in-arms," the Potions Master said with a trademark sneer.

"I think that's enough," Remus told Severus harshly, getting to his feet. The swift change in Harry's countenance when he noticed Professor Snape had surprised him. "Harry has been through a great deal more than we ­–"

"We have _all _been through a great deal, and we have _all _done things that we did not want to do," Severus hissed.

"Remus. Thank you, but don't worry about it," Harry quietly told his father's friend. Turning to Severus, he said in much harsher tones, "Don't try and compare yourself to _me. _Your actions were dictated by the _choices you made_. I didn't have much of a choice in the matter."

If Severus was affected by the insult directed at him, he didn't show it. His face was just as inscrutable as Harry's. "That was a spectacular temper tantrum you threw yesterday, but you need to realise that you are not a special case, boy, and you never have been. Stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"Severus!" Remus rebuked.

"As a matter of fact, I _don't _feel sorry for myself. In fact I feel sorry for everybody else. Excuse me," the young man pushed past the Potions Master on his way out of the room.

"Aren't you staying for the meeting?" Remus called out.

"I'm not going far, I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Do you remember where it is?"

"Yes, I'll be back soon."

"Are you sure you would rather not go with him?" Severus asked his former school-yard nemesis snidely, seating himself in one of the chairs and waiting for the other Order members to arrive. "He is not an infant anymore. He does not need you to hold his hand."

"I think the problem is that he's _never had_ anyone to hold his hand," Remus noted quietly.

"Nor have I," Severus pointed out.

"Oh, yes, and look how _you_ turned out."

"I don't think he turned out _too _badly," Draco noted as he walked into the room, dusting himself off.

"You and I are poles apart on that matter," Remus mumbled, shaking his head as Ginny, Ron and Hermione followed Draco into the room.

"Minerva said she might be a bit late. Something about students and dung bombs," Draco told Remus with a perfectly straight face.

"Did Harry come to visit you?" Hermione asked Remus a little hesitantly.

"Yes. He's upstairs right now, but he'll be down in a minute."

"How…er…how did he seem?" Ginny asked him, unable to meet his eyes.

Remus looked thoughtfully at the small group. "Why? Is there something wrong with him?"

"You mean aside from the obvious?" Ron muttered.

"Stop it!" Ginny hissed, elbowing her brother sharply. Remus glared at him and Ron behaved himself.

"He seemed a little worse for wear, but that's not surprising, considering Ginny's report about what happened yesterday. Why do you ask?" Remus asked protectively.

"We're just concerned about him, that's all," Hermione replied.

Remus sent them all a look that spoke volumes before he excused himself and returned to the kitchen to prepare the 'tea and coffee' stand for the Order members. By the time he'd set up the makeshift stand in the meeting room, most of the Order had gathered.

"Perhaps you should call Harry down," Albus suggested mildly, watching the last of the members arrive. Remus nodded and headed upstairs to the bathroom.

"Harry," he called out, gently knocking on the door. "The meeting's about to start."

"Alright. You don't have to wait for me, I'll be there in am minute," he called out.

"See you down there, then," Remus called out, heading back down the corridor.

Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror and splashed more cold water on his face. "Pull yourself together. It's been a long time since you've let anyone push you around, and you're not about to start now," he told his reflection firmly. "And now you're back to talking to yourself. Terrific," he sighed, turning the water off and reaching for the hand towel.

There wasn't much room left in the large sitting room by the time everyone had seated themselves, but he found a quiet spot in the corner and drew himself a chair.

"Good. We're all here. First of all, let me welcome Harry back," Albus declared to the room. A few gasps could be heard among the sound of about thirty heads swivelling to look at their young hero. Harry groaned inwardly.

"It's good to have you back," Albus greeted him.

Many of the Order members broke into applause and murmured their enthusiastic welcomes and greetings.

"Thank you," he said simply, "but I don't want to talk about me. I want to talk about Voldemort. He's back, and we've got a lot of work to do…"

Remus looked closely at the implacable expression on the face of his best friend's son, his own creasing in concern.

OOOOO

"We don't know where Voldemort is or what he plans to do at this point. We do, however, know who some of his followers are. So at this early stage, the best thing we could do is re-establish our information networks. It would be safest to organise yourselves into groups to do this," Albus instructed. The Order members broke into muted discussions among themselves.

"We are once again approaching dangerous times and we must all do what we can. When we once again have full use of our information networks we will be in a better position to be able to move against Voldemort. On that note, I think we can bring the meeting to an end." The Headmaster concluded the meeting by standing and making a beeline for Remus' coffee stand.

Many of the Order members wanted the change to speak to Harry, particularly the older members of the Weasley family, but Harry left the room before anyone could approach him.

"Remus," Ron called to his friend, beckoning him over. "Did Harry say anything to you about why he left, or why he came back?"

The older man joined their small group and narrowed his eyes at Ron. "Isn't that the sort of thing you could ask him yourself?"

Ron had the good grace to blush under the harsh gaze.

"All he said was that he _needed_ to leave," Remus told him, matter-of-factly.

"That's it?" asked Ron angrily.

"Yes, it is," the older affirmed in low tones that held just the hint of a threat in them.

"Figures," the young red-head snorted.

Remus regarded the small group carefully. "You were all very close to Harry in school, so let me tell you this. I understand that you were hurt when he left–so was I–but I suspect that there is more to be considered here than just your feelings. Think about it."

The small group watched as their old friend turned away and left the room.

"What did he mean by that?" Ron asked out loud, never one for subtleties.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He means I was right and that you need to look beyond your own nose, idiot."

OOOOO

Remus found Harry in the room that housed the piano, standing in front of the fireplace and just looking at the photographs. The young man allowed himself to be reminded of all he had lost, and all that he had never been given the chance to enjoy. He remembered the way that his parents had died–like heroes, trying to stop Voldemort and trying to save him. He blinked back tears at his recollection of the way Sirius had died–like a man, fighting to stop Voldemort's Death Eaters and to keep Harry safe.

"I thought I might find you here," Remus said very quietly, not wanting to startle Harry.

"I just needed to remind myself," said Harry, looking intently at the photograph in his hand.

Remus gave Harry an odd look, "Remind yourself, of what?"

"Of why I did this before…and why I have to do it again," the young man whispered.

Remus nodded, understanding what was said, as well as what wasn't.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I have to speak to Draco and Snape, are they still out there?" Harry asked suddenly.

"They were a moment ago," Remus replied.

"Good. Thanks," the young man called out as he rushed from the room.

_Don't worry, Prongs. I'll look after your boy, I promise,_ Remus silently vowed as he looked at a photo of the Marauders, up to their usual antics, in their school dormitory.

OOOOO

Most of the Order members had left, but Draco, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Severus and Albus remained. Each of them were waiting for their chance to speak to Remus before they left. When they saw Harry approach them, Ron grunted and moved to the other side of the room.

"Ron!" Ginny hissed.

Harry felt a pang when he saw Ron leave, but pushed it aside and set his face. "I didn't want to interrupt you," he told them quietly. "I only wanted to have a word with Draco and Professor Snape."

"Just _us_?" Draco asked, a little surprised.

Severus sniffed in obvious disdain and looked away.

Ignoring the older man, Harry continued. "Actually, I guess this probably applies to all of you as well, I only singled those two out because I was thinking of the danger they'll be in now that Voldemort's circle are actively looking to kill them.

"Won't you have a seat?" Ginny offered.

Harry glanced at the group and noted, a little sadly, that they seemed to be uncomfortable in his presence. "Thank you," he said, taking a small seat opposite the group. "This won't take long. I guess we're _all _going to be targeted by the Death Eaters…and Voldemort… and it's going to make it difficult to move around. It's especially going to be difficult for the two of you to move around. A lot of people still think that you were loyal to Voldemort during the war, and I know that no one has actually tried to discourage that opinion in case someone in Voldemort's circle discovered you were a spy, and tried to kill you. Now that Voldemort has found out you were both disloyal to him though, you're going to have people from his circle wanting to kill you as well as people from the general population," he explained to the two men. "I can teach you all to perform a concealment spell that a revealing spell won't see through…if you want."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that," Ginny admitted. "Albus said that he cast a revealing spell on you when he first met you, and it didn't show that you were wearing a concealment spell. He cast another one on you in the classroom when your scar played up—and it still didn't show any concealment spells.  How was that possible when you were wearing concealment spells the whole time?"

Harry paused, trying to think of a way to explain himself.

"Before you start, would you mind if I called Albus over? I'm sure he'd be interested to hear your explanation," Hermione asked.

"Er, sure," Harry agreed.

He looked at the group, noticing that they all wore different expressions. Ginny looked somewhat happy to be talking to him. Draco looked nervous and Severus looked completely impassive, as usual. Hermione, Remus and Albus joined them moments later – though Ron didn't.

"I am eager to hear your explanation, Harry," Albus said, drawing a seat next to Harry and seating himself comfortably. "When my revealing spells failed to show me what you looked like under your disguise yesterday, I assumed you must have been concealing yourself with potions, much like the type that Professor Snape makes for our use which are resistant to revealing spells. I also thought you might have been surviving in your disguise through the continued use of polyjuice potion. That particular technique has been used before," he said grimly, recalling how Barty Crouch Junior had used polyjuice potion to deceive the Headmaster himself, as well as the rest of the staff and students into thinking that he was, in fact, Professor Alastor Moody.

"No, I used a spell. Um, I don't quite know how to explain this properly, but I hope you'll bear with me. A long time ago, a group of wizards tried to combine the standard concealment spell that we all use today with a spell specifically designed to render the revealing spell completely useless. It doesn't so much deflect it as it…I don't know…blankets the first spell. the idea was that the concealment spell would be cast first and then, this second spell, this…it doesn't have a name, but I guess it's some sort of anti-revealing spell…was cast over the first one, with the intention that it would deflect all revealing spells away from the concealment charm," Harry explained slowly, his forehead creased in concentration.

"That sounds perfectly sound to me," Hermione nodded.

"It didn't work. The wizards didn't take into account the nature of the revealing spell. It's designed to detect _any _concealment spells that the person might be wearing. It's like it sort of moved around the first spell to find the second one. But, my instructors and I–actually, mostly my instructors–discovered that if you weave the anti-revealing charm _into _the actual concealment spell, it alters the nature of the spell and becomes a _part _of it. So, revealing spells can't detect them," Harry concluded.

Albus, Severus, Remus and Hermione nodded slowly at Harry, absorbing what he told them.  But Ginny and Draco still looked at him as if he'd been speaking a foreign language.

"So a new spell was developed?" Hermione asked, putting an end to the awkward silence that had arisen.

"No. Two spells are cast simultaneously…sort of," Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "While you're casting them, you need to conceptualise the two spells working together as one to achieve one purpose. Like two parts of the one machine…. As I said, I can show you, and everyone else in the Order, if you like," the young man offered, noticing the confused looks on everyone's faces.

"I have read about the attempt to create a concealment spell that could not be seen through. Was it not Salazar Slytherin and his society of the dark arts who were behind the effort to develop the spell?" Professor Snape asked, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"Yes," Harry admitted.

"Salazar Slytherin?" Ginny exclaimed, a little apprehensively.

"It doesn't matter who developed it, it's an excellent piece of spell work," Harry reasoned.

I must say I am extremely surprised to find that I have not heard of this spell until now. Tell me, is it difficult to perform?" Albus asked, mildly surprised.

"Well…you need to be able to cast two spells simultaneously," Harry admitted, "but I don't think that will be a problem for _you_."

The rest of the group looked at each other, a little dubious about the prospects of their own success.

"Would it work if one person cast the concealment charm onto someone at the same time as another person cast the anti-revealing spell onto that person?" Hermione thought that it was unlikely that they would be able to perform that spell, but felt that it was too good a spell not to take advantage of, and she quickly racked her brains trying to think of a way they could still use it.

"Um, I don't know. I've never tired it that way. Actually, I don't think it would. The spells need to be more or less woven together and combined before the magic actually leaves your wand that that can't happen if two different people cast the spell. But I can still show you how it's done if you want and you can work on it."

"Would it work if _you _were to cast the spell over us?" Hermione pressed.

Harry thought about that. "I don't see why it wouldn't."

"How did you find out about the spell?"

"Some of my instructors and I found it in one of my books and between us, we worked out a way around the problems. Actually, _they _did most of the work," Harry admitted.

"_More _books? Exactly how many books do you have?" Draco asked curiously.

"A few," Harry replied evasively, looking anywhere but at Draco.

Severus looked on with interest. It was obvious that Harry was lying, which surprised the Potions Master a little, as Harry had never been particularly studious as a student, and there were times during those years when the malicious professor questioned his student's ability to even read.

"Look, I just thought it would help," Harry said, breaking the awkward silence that had once again settled over the conversation and getting to his feet. "Tell Ron about it and let me know if you guys want me to show you how to cast the spells."

Draco rose from his chair and came to stand in front of Harry in one fluid movement, taking Harry by surprise. Speaking quietly so only Harry could hear, he asked "Can I have a word with you, in private?"

"Er, sure," Harry replied, following Draco into the kitchen.

Draco shut the door behind him to make they would have no interruptions before he began. "I just want to make sure we know where we stand with each other."

Harry blinked in surprise. "I –"

"Before you say anything, I don't feel the same way Ron does, and neither do Ginny or Hermione. Forget who we were when we were in school. I spent a couple of years standing in front of Voldemort, face to face, and even though I was one of his favourites, I was scared to death every time I had to do it. I can't imagine what it took for you to stand face to face with him, knowing that he wanted to kill you. I just wanted to say that you have my respect," Draco said, holding out his hand.

Harry shook the offered hand without hesitation, nodding somberly in acknowledgement.

"As I have for you. I don't know how you managed to lie to Voldemort the way you did for as long as you did," he said.

"I hope things don't change between us. I kind of liked 'Jason'," Draco said.

"Jason kind of liked you too," Harry told him, giving a small half smile. "Jason has also been waiting a while to find out how you would feel to know that you told _Harry Potter_ about your, er…sexual dysfunction…."

Draco blushed as he realised that he had, in fact, done just that.

"Jason wants you to know that his secret is safe though. Just the three of us know about it – well, _four,_ I guess when you include Ginny."

"Er…right," Draco stammered. "I'll have to leave soon but I was hoping you'd come with Severus and me when we try to re-establish contact with our information networks."

"You might need to check with the professor before inviting me along. He doesn't seem too happy with me—surprise,  surprise," Harry told him with a roll of his eyes.

"I will if you think I need to. If you have anyone you need to get in touch with or anything, I'd be happy to go along with you, if you'd like some help or some company," Draco offered.

"The Death Eaters want you dead," Harry said bluntly.

"They more or less know who the main players in the Order are, so they'll be targeting more people than just Severus and me now."

"You've got a point," Harry murmured, concerned for his friends. "Listen–make sure Ron, Hermione and Ginny don't just go off on their own out there. Make sure they take you, Minerva or Snape along as well. I don't care how much they argue with you, don't take 'no' for an answer."

"They can take care of themselves, but sure," Draco agreed, noticing the worried expression on Harry's face.

"Thanks."

"Listen, you and Ron will sort things out," Draco offered weakly, knowing that it would take a lot to make his stubborn brother-in-law come around.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, doubtful that that would happen any time soon. The only other time Harry could remember Ron behaving like this was when Barty Crouch Junior, who came to Hogwarts disguised as Mad Eye Moody, entered him in the Tri-Wizard Tournament without his knowledge. Most of the students in the school, including Ron, had been convinced that Harry entered himself into the tournament so that he could earn himself even more attention than he was already getting. It was only when Harry was injured by a dragon in the first task that Ron realised he had been wrong, and everything went back to as they had been before. He privately wondered if it would take something just as disastrous to make things right between them again.

Severus finally found the two young men in the kitchen and paused before he knocked, wondering what they were talking about.

"The others are ready to leave," he said to Draco, ignoring Harry altogether.

Draco nodded and turned back to Harry. "Listen, you get your sleep because we have a class to teach first thing tomorrow morning, and since neither one of us has really prepared anything, we're just going to have to teach this one on the fly."

"_We_?"

"Yes, _we_," Draco grinned. "See you tomorrow," he called over his shoulder, relieved that he had sorted things out with Harry. He turned back around and noticed Severus giving him an odd look.

"There's nothing I could possibly say to you that could make you understand, so I won't bother," Draco told him simply. Draco had found that Jason, or Harry as it were, was a man worth knowing, and it would be hypocritical in the extreme for _him_–a man who had practiced deception for such a long time himself–to hold Harry's deception against him. Privately, though, he wondered what could have pushed Harry into deceiving the very people he'd always claimed to love.

OOOOO

Remus found Harry sitting on his own in the kitchen, nursing a mug of coffee in his hands and looking thoughtfully out of the window. Albus had just explained to the only remaining Marauder exactly what had happened yesterday, which explained why Harry and Ron weren't on good terms.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Remus offered, joining him. Harry smiled gratefully at his father's best friend.

"Only if I can cook," Harry offered.  Chatting with Draco had done a world of good him, and for the first time in a long while, Harry felt at ease.


	15. chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own the whole concept of Harry Potter or any of its characters. They belong to the talented Ms Rowling. Only the plot is my own.

Thank you to everyone who has followed the fic and lots of thank yous to everyone who reviewed. A few people have mentioned that they don't normally read slash but are quite happy to follow this fic alonga nd all I can say is THANK YOU so much for giving a story a chance! I will give you warnings before the slash sections (when they eventually appear in t his fic) so that you can avoid them if you wish.

And a big thank you to my beta, **Sepia**. Your efforts are greatly appreciated. ï

CHAPTER 15

In his eight year absence, Harry had almost forgotten how the wizarding world reacted to him. It was difficult to ignore the way people would stare at his forehead and then skim their eyes over the rest of him, and he was quite certain that were few people who could walk into a room and bring every single conversation to an end, just by being there, the way he could.

But possibly, even more disconcerting than the staring was the way members of the Order would look to him for advice or guidance, as much as they would look to Albus.

_I'm _nobody's _leader, _he thought rather irritably.He had more or less worked on his own during the war, so what would he know about coordinating a group effort? It took quite some time for Harry to convince them to look to Albus, who had decades more experience than he in that particular area.

And then there were his students, who had mixed reactions following their realisation that Harry Potter was one of their professors. Some of them followed him about the school, which at best was irritating, and at worst it made it difficult to carry out some of his duties as an Order member, Other students, particularly the Slytherin students, were cautious of him. Harry guessed it was because their house had always been closely associated with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and a presumption on their part that Harry's attitude would be prejudiced when it came to all matters Slytherin.

On the other hand, the Gryfindor students couldn't have been more pleased that he was their professor. Not only did they feel a keen sense of House pride every time they looked at Harry – in him they saw the embodiment of all that it meant to be a Gryfindor – but they also thought that having the boy-who-lived in their corner would give them an advantage in their rivalry with the Slytherins. They were wrong, and the Gryfindor students lost a record number of house points and earned a record number of detentions over the next couple of weeks before they realised that Harry wouldn't encourage their school yard rivalry any more than Professor Green had.

It took some weeks for Harry to re-establish a rapport with his students, and he was somewhat pleased to see that they were willing to work harder under the watchful eye of 'Professor Potter' than under 'Professor Green'. Fame may not have been everything, but if his students were going to be better able to defend themselves on account of his celebrity, then he wouldn't complain. Dark times were upon them once again, and Harry and Draco pushed their students during their lessons, hoping beyond hope that whatever they were teaching them was going to be enough to get through what was in store for them all.

Harry knew all too well what was in store for them – the problem was, he didn't think anyone else was taking the matter as seriously as they should. And for the life of him, he couldn't understand why the Order seemed happy to move at such a slow pace. While he understood the importance of re-establishing good communication networks, he couldn't understand why that was _all _they'd been doing for the last month and a half. Each time he had tried to argue his point with Albus, the Headmaster would tell him that there was nothing more important than setting up their lines of communication at this point, since they wouldn't be able to gather information from the circle of Death Eaters this time around.

Harry had carefully cultivated his information network during the final years of the war, after he was taken for training, and he had relied on a few select people from both the wizarding and muggle worlds who were well placed to be able to provide him with useful information. Some of his contacts had gone into hiding after the war had ended, and it had been extremely difficult to find them, but some of them were able to be found in exactly the same place he'd left them eight years ago.

He visited one such person on one of the few weekends he wasn't required to supervise the student Hogsmeade excursions. The audacity of his contact made him groan inwardly – he could be found in the same bookshop in Knockturn Alley, that specialised in 'hard to get' publications, that Harry had met him in ten years ago.

He peered into the shop to make sure that the person he was looking for was actually in, and that someone else wasn't looking after the store for the day. He saw a dark haired man lift a stack of books off the counter and carry them over to one of the shelves near the front of the store. Harry twisted himself about trying to get a closer look at the man's face, but before he knew what had happened, the door had been pulled open and he stumbled forward a little.

"Josh?" Harry asked, studying the face of the man before him.

"Harry?" Josh asked, blinking a few times in surprise. "You've changed."

"So have _you_," Harry noted, "But I guess it _has_ been a while. Can we talk – alone?"

Josh's face immediately lost its grin and he looked up and down the street before he pulled Harry into the shop, closing the door behind him, turning his "Open" sign over, pulling the blind down and casting a silencing spell over the shop.

OOOOO

"That looked...odd. What on earth is he doing down _here_?" Draco mumbled. He and Severus had been visiting an old ally in Knockturn alley and had rounded a corner to see someone pull Harry into a store, shutting the door and pulling the front blind down behind them.

"I don't know, nor do I care," Severus replied tritely, though the behaviour of Hogwarts' "Golden Boy" at present genuinely confused him.

"He's been so busy for the last few weeks – I've barely seen him outside of classes, and he doesn't join us for meals anymore. I wonder what he's up to," Draco said, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Potter has always done as he pleases and he will continue to do the same. There are some things that never change," Severus sneered.

Draco threw Severus a look that spoke volumes and the older man shifted slightly under the gaze, but gave no other indication that he had been effected.

"In any case, _I'm _curious to know what he's doing," Draco said, looking up and down the street to make sure no one was watching him before he drew his wand and cautiously approached the door that Harry had been dragged through. "Damn," he muttered, lowering his wand. "A silencing charm."

Such practice is standard. Did you really believe that they would not use one?" Severus asked dryly, while he pretended to examine the signs on the shop window. To the passer by, he would simply look as though he was interested in what this particular shop had to sell.

Draco grinned slyly. "It doesn't matter. I always carry a pair of these with me. I never leave home without them." The young man paused and groaned while he retrieved his extendable ears from his robes. "I guess that means the Weasleys are rubbing off on me."

Severus sighed heavily. "It would appear so," he replied, carefully moving to stand in front of Draco to shield him from view of passers-by.

Draco nodded at his friend, and checked the alley again before he sent the stringy ears under the shop's front door. Nobody came out to see who the ears belonged to, and he didn't feel anybody tugging on them, so he exhaled the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and ducked around the nearest corner, motioning for Severus to join him.

"You've got to listen to this," he said when Severus joined him, offering him an ear.

OOOOO

"It's been a while," Josh said, his eyes lingering over Harry appraisingly.

"It has, but that's not what I'm here for."

"Pity," Josh shrugged, with a meaningful look.

"I've been hearing things. The Death Eaters are active again."

"Yes, they've been causing trouble for the muggles."

"Are they just random incidents, or do you think that what they're doing is part of something bigger?"

"Their activities don't appear to be organised, but I'm sure they've got an agenda."

"Can you find out what it is?"

Josh looked long and hard at Harry. "Is this why you've come back?"

"Partly," Harry grudgingly admitted. "I have a feeling that something big is about to happen, and I'd like to be able to head that off, if it's possible. Can I rely on your eyes and ears?" Harry asked seriously.

"Always. We operate under the same rules as before though. I don't want to be implicated in anything and I don't want my name to come up in any conversations. Unless I'm specifically in danger, I don't want to know anything either. I'll help you, but just keep me the hell out of it, alright?" Josh said, shaking Harry's hand to seal their agreement.

"Alright, and thank you," Harry said, breathing a little easier.

"How will I contact you?"

Harry thought about this for a moment. "Don't. I'll contact you. If it's an emergency – and you know what I mean by 'emergency' – you can owl me at Hogwarts, but I'd rather you avoid that if you can. The risk of interception is too great."

"I understand, but we haven't had to make arrangements like these since the days of 'You-Know-Who', do you think we're headed for times like those again?" Josh asked, trying to read beyond the vague information Harry had given him.

"I don't know, but I just want to be prepared for anything," Harry said evenly. "So, is there anything you've heard that I might be interested in?"

Josh paused to think. "I haven't really been digging around or paying much attention, but I've been hearing a lot of talk about Salazar Slytherin. A few people have been in here buying up every book they could find on him. Does that mean anything to you?"

"No. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, do you remember how we weren't sure which side Snape and Malfoy were loyal to during the war?" Josh asked.

"_I _knew who they were working for. _You _were the one who wasn't sure," Harry corrected him.

"Yeah, well anyway, it turns out that they really _were _working for Dumbledore after all. They double crossed You-Know-Who and now there are an awful lot of people out there who want them dead. Heh, they probably aren't all even Death Eaters, either. I wouldn't mind seeing them face down in the gutter, and I've never even met them."

"Don't you think you're being a little unfair? They _were _working for the good guys all along," Harry pointed out.

"You know, I'll never understand why you worked so hard to keep everyone off their backs. Come on, it's _Snape _and _Malfoy_."

"I knew what I was doing, and _you _helped me by telling me about Blaise, so thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. It was only by luck that I heard anything at all. I never _did_ manage to find out if he actually had any proof of their treason though," Josh sighed.

"I don't care what it was, thank you."

"Yeah, well, I'll bet they'll never appreciate it. That's just what they're like. _I _appreciate you though. I appreciate _everything _about you," Josh said huskily, moving slowly toward Harry and running his eyes appreciatively over his older, more mature appearance.

"Josh," Harry cautioned, taking a step back.

"You look great, you know that, don't you?" Josh asked before he closed the remaining distance between them and gently pressed his lips to his. Harry didn't resist, so Josh continued to kiss him slowly and steadily, running his hands down Harry's body until they came to rest on his hips.

Harry gasped and deepened the kiss, sliding his hands around Josh's back to pull him in even closer. Josh tore his lips away from Harry's so that he could place small wet kisses along Harry's jaw line and down his neck, stopping at the place where his neck met his collar bone and licking along the crevice.

A low moan escaped Harry. He closed his eyes, unable to do anything but enjoy the attention. He'd been so isolated since he'd returned to Hogwarts, and he'd felt so _lonely_, particularly over the last few weeks. His body came alive with the attention, and sensations and feelings that he thought he'd forgotten how to feel coursed through his veins. He missed this.

But if he had to be honest with himself, it wasn't _this _he missed, so much as he missed the way _Greg _made him feel when he kissed him, when he made love to him. He missed the way his lover's skin felt beneath his hands, and the way his lover's lips felt beneath his own. He and Josh had been lovers during those final dark years of the war – and Harry would always care for him – but their relationship was more a product of two isolated men seeking solace in physical intimacy. Harry's relationship with Greg was more than that. It was special. Greg's love made Harry feel..._alive_.

"Josh, I'm sorry," Harry apologized, a little out of breath.

Josh reached out and tilted Harry's face toward him so he could look closely at the young man before him. "You moved on," he finally said, letting go of him.

Harry held his gaze and simply nodded.

"The offer still stands if you ever change your mind," Josh said, looking away and taking a few steps back. "I'll keep my ears open for you, so don't be a stranger, alright? he said, pulling out his wand and sending books and parchments flying to various places on the shelves behind Harry.

"I've been meaning to ask you why you didn't move when the war ended. Wasn't it a bit risky staying here?" Harry asked, moving out of the way of the books and leaning against a wall.

"There was no reason to move. No one suspected me of passing information along to you. No one even suspected that I had anything to do with you, since you were always in disguise whenever you _were _here – except when we were in the backrooms," Josh explained, looking meaningfully at Harry.

Harry felt himself flush a little under the gaze, and he quickly changed the topic. "Since you're still here, tell me, what sort of books have you got in the way of spell and charm work?"

OOOOO

The two men inside the store had let the conversation drift to the topic of books, so Draco and Severus removed the devices from their ears and looked at each other.

"I told you these were handy to have around," Draco said, at a loss for anything better to say. He looked at Severus, who was looking at the ground, his forehead furrowed in thought.

"I've heard about this fellow, Josh. He's meant to be quite a nasty character," Draco continued, giving the extendable ears a yank to retrieve them. "But –"

"He sounded rather _friendly_ just a moment ago, didn't he?" Severus retorted. He instantly regretted his outburst when he caught Draco giving him an odd look. But damn it, there was nothing special about Potter. He was just a man...and at his age, barely one at that. It made Severus' blood boil to see the way people fawned over him – and now they were _kissing _him. Was there no limit to the idiocy in this world?

"Er...I guess," Draco said, giving his friend a very strange look.

Severus heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed his forehead. He wasn't entirely certain he believed his own rationalization – but right now wasn't prepared to think about why that was the case.

"I never imagined that Harry would be the type to make friends with, well, people like Josh. From what I've heard of him, he's got an impressive list of skills to recommend him. He's welcome in places even you and I would have difficulty getting into, and he's very well trained in the dark arts, among other things. I don't think Harry could have a more well placed contact," Draco noted.

Severus sniffed. "I can think of at least a _dozen _people who fit that description. I find nothing about this..._Josh_...that is particularly impressive."

This earned Severus another odd look from his friend.

"I am concerned," Severus said, trying to regain his composure, "What _proof_ could Blaise have gathered to show that we were not loyal to the Dark Lord?"

Draco shook his head helplessly. "I don't know. Josh wasn't certain that he even had any at all. Do you really think he had proof, or do you think he might have just planned to raise suspicions at one of the meetings?"

"I could only presume to know."

"I'd be very interested to know what Harry did to Blaise and his little friends? As far as I know, they're _still_ MIA but presumed dead," Draco wondered out loud.

"Whatever it was, it was clearly...permanent," Severus remarked.

The two men fell into a tense silence.

"I'm going to see if he has anyone left to see, and if he wants a hand, I'll go with him," Draco blurted out, breaking the silence.

"I beg your pardon?" the Potions Master asked, mildly surprised.

"Harry and I have made our peace with each other. Do you remember what he said that day that Voldemort came back? He said that he was alone the last time he had to fight Voldemort. I know that he had his instructors to help him and I can see that he made his own contacts and led his own life, but he was essentially alone when it counted."

"It did not sound like he was _too _lonely during those years," Severus said, unaware that his hands had balled into fists.

"Sex is different. I had random lovers by the score before I met Ginny and, believe me, they don't do anything to drive away loneliness," Draco said, waiving his objection away. "Anyway, you heard Josh. He said he'd help but that he wanted Harry to keep him the hell out of all of this, _like the last time_. He's probably made the same arrangement with everyone else who helped him the last time. He probably spent most of his time keeping them as far away from Voldemort and his Death Eaters as possible. I'm just going to let him know that he's not on his own this time."

"I do not think you need to take Potter's temper tantrums too seriously," Severus sneered.

Draco glared at the older man. "I know you're not as obtuse as you're pretending to be. If you hate Harry on principle alone, and no other reason, then that's fine, but let me tell you this. During those years that I was a spy for Albus, if you hadn't been there, I don't think I would have made it."

Severus opened his mouth to interrupt but Draco cut him off.

"You didn't have to do anything or even _say _anything, but I knew without question that I could count on you if I need to. You have no idea what that meant and I know you don't like hearing those sorts of things about yourself but I think it needed to be said. I'm just going to do the same for Harry. I think he deserves at least that much. He shouldn't have to think he's alone when he's standing in front of that monster. No one should."

As much as Severus wanted to, he couldn't argue the point with Draco. "We all do what we must. If his behaviour as 'Professor Green' is anything to go by, he has demonstrated on any number of occasions that he is capable of looking after himself in a variety of hostile situatins," he observed quietly.

"You, me, Ginny, Hermione, Ron...we've _all_ got those particular 'capabilities', but not one of us ever felt like we were on our own during the war. We were all looked after and even if we couldn't rely on anyone else, we could look to each other for support. I don't think Harry even had that. He's a man, not a machine. I'm sure he'd appreciate having someone to turn to, even if it is _me_."

Draco quickly rounded the corner, letting Harry see him before he could escape and Severus followed Draco out of the small alley.

"Hey there," Draco said quietly, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to them. "What brings you to this part of the world?"

"Draco, Professor," Harry acknowledged politely. "Nothing really, just running a few errands."

The Potions Master narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"Severus and I were just talking to a few people, but we're done here so, if you don't mind, I'll tag along with you," Draco offered.

Harry blinked in surprise. "Er, it's probably not something you could actually tag along for. I'm...I'm-oh fine, come here," Harry said in slight exasperation, leading them both around a corner and casting a silencing spell around them. "I'm speaking to a few of my contacts, informants, that sort of thing. They trust _me_, but I don't know that they'd trust _you_," he said pointedly.

"That won't be a problem. You can disguise my appearance and pretend that we're colleagues, which isn't too much of a stretch really, considering we do teach together, though I'm not strictly on staff." Draco looked closely at Harry. "I'm afraid I'm not going to take 'no' for an answer. Actally I couldn't if I wanted to," he grimaced. "I'm under strict orders from my wife to keep you company."

"I can look after myself," Harry said bluntly.

"I know, but I'm going to have to be very offended if you refuse my offer," Draco warned him.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. If you're going to be that way about I, I don't see what harm it could do, but you have to let _me_ do all the talking," Harry told him.

"Of course," Draco agreed a little too easily, which made Harry wonder whether he'd just made a big mistake.

"I have no further business here so I will return to Hogwarts and let your wife know to expect you back a little later. You may have strict orders to stay with Potter, but your wife has made it clear that _I _am to keep an eye on _you_," Severus told Draco before turning on his heel and stalking away.

"It looks like she's got _everyone_ working for her," Harry noted.

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Draco agreed. "Now, we might want to go somewhere a little more private to alter my appearance."

"Actually, I don't think I need to. I only have one more person to see and he's a muggle captain in the British Army," Harry explained.

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing.

"Come on, we need to get out of these robes and find you some muggle clothing," Harry said, looking at Draco's wizarding attire.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Draco asked, in mock outrage.

"Didn't we have this discussion when we went to the muggle library only a few months ago?" Harry grinned. "Anyway, after we've done all of that, we'll need to create a portkey," he explained, leading the way out of Knockturn Alley.

OOOOO

Harry and Draco traveled by portkey to the training base, but they didn't count on having so much trouble getting past the front gates. It took quite some time for the two men to convince the soldier that they weren't a security risk and that he should lower his gun. They might have been there longer, had Draco not stepped in and taken the matter into his own hands.

"This is your first day on the job, isn't it?" he sighed, his patience clearly at an end.

"You really shouldn't –" the solider spluttered, still pointing his gun at them.

"Look, soldier. We're looking for the captain. We can understand that you can't just let anyone walk onto the base, but if you had used your head when we first asked to see him you would have sent for a couple of soldiers to escort us to him instead of wasting our time," Draco sighed.

The guard at the reddened and called for two armed escorts.

"Thank you," Draco nodded before he followed the guards. They found the captain on the training ground holding a class in hand to hand combat.

"Sir! These gentlemen say they have an urgent matter to discuss with you," one of the armed escorts called out.

"Thank you gentlemen, I'll see them here," he called out, dismissing the escorts and coming over to meet the two young men. "Harry! It's been ages! Who's your friend?"

"Steven, this is William Hislop," Harry told him, protecting Draco's identity. "Bill, this is Captain Steven Toricelli."

The two men shook hands.

"Have you got a minute?" Harry asked his old mentor.

"Sure. Just let me give my guys something to do. Excuse me," he said, heading back over to his class and shouting a series of crisp orders.

"Good thinking with the name, but where do you know the captain from?" Draco asked quietly.

"He was one of my fighting and self-defence instructors."

"You learned how to fight, _muggle style?_" Draco asked, mildly surprised.

"Yes. A lot of witches and wizards are thrown off balance when I attack them with my fists instead of with my wand," Harry explained. Without thinking he stood a little straighter when he saw the captain returning.

"That makes sense," Draco nodded in approval. "I know _I _would be."

"So, what did you want to see me about?" the captain asked, coming to stand at ease before the two men.

It didn't take long for Harry to explain what he needed his old instructor to do. The military officer had been one of Harry's key informants regarding all things muggle related during the war, so he immediately understood what he was being asked to do, and why the contact arrangements were so obscure.

In fact, Captain Toricelli was probably one of the few muggles who knew about Voldemort at all. His uncle had been a wizard and had attended Hogwarts during the times when Albus had been the transfiguration professor. Though his nephew had not been born with any magical ability, he had always been close to his uncle, a man who occasionally did some work for the Order of the Phoenix.

The captain had been visiting his uncle when Albus had dropped by on one occasion and his uncle had recommended his skills to Albus, knowing the headmaster counted both muggles and wizards among his list of friends, acquaintances and contacts. Some months later, Albus approached him and offered him the task of teaching Harry how to defend himself. Although the initial basis of the relationship was that of tutor and student, a mutual admiration developed and Harry couldn't have imagined trying to defeat Voldemort without Steven's support.

"What sort of enemy are we facing? Anything like the last one?" he asked, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"I've been hearing some strange things. It's all just gossip and rumours at this point, but if there's anything going on, I'd like to be in a position to be able to head it off," Harry told him, evasively. He would tell them about Voldemort's return when he had his network up and running again. He might even have some idea of how he was going to deal with Voldemort's return by them – he hoped.

"I'll do what I can," the officer nodded.

Harry breathed a little easier when he heard this. "Thanks. We'll be heading off, but I'll drop in every now and then, alright – if I can get past your soldier at the front gate."

"Before you go, I wonder if one – or both – of you would do _me _a favour," the captain inquired.

Draco looked to Harry in confusion, but Harry shook his head and shrugged helplessly.

"Er, I guess so." Harry replied, clearly puzzled.

"Good. My class is about to graduate and they think that they know everything that they need to know about combat. I was hoping you wouldn't mind...demonstrating...that they shouldn't let their skill go to their head and drop their guard." Captain Toricelli led the two men to his class, who were still going through the grueling set of drills he'd left them to do.

"What makes you think we can best them in a fight?" Harry asked him with a grin.

His old instructor threw him a look of disbelief. "I've never seen your friend fight, but I trained _you_ myself."

"What if I'm rusty? Out of shape?" Harry asked lightly, still grinning mischievously.

The man skimmed his eyes over Harry's well toned physique and raised an eyebrow. "You don't _look _out of shape."

"I might sit this one out, but you go ahead," Draco told Harry, smiling at the friendly banter between the two. There was so much mystery surrounding the life Harry had led after he had been taken for training and seeing a piece of Harry's history come alive in front of him captivated his interest. He was happy to just watch and listen.

"Are you sure? This could be fun," Harry grinned.

"Yeah, I'm sure,"

"Alright, but if you complain about missing out on having all the fun later on, I'm going to remind you whose fault that was," Harry said, swinging his arms to limber up the muscles in his shoulders.

"Well, I'm interested to see what you can do, to be honest," Harry's former instructor said with a grin.

"I _knew_ you had another motive. All that stuff about needing to teach your students to stay on their guard – pah! You could have just challenged them to try and beat you up yourself," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Yes, but it's more fun this way," he said teasingly.

"I agree," Draco said.

Harry looked at the two of them and shook his head.

"Soldiers, eyes front!" the officer called out sternly, standing at ease before his class. "These two gentlemen travel to various military bases to see what their men and women are made of."

"Listen up!" Draco told them, jumping in. "Captain Toricelli has told us that you're a decent group, but I think I'd like to see that for myself. This is a hand to hand combat training session, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir!" the soldiers called back to him in unison.

"And you're all about to graduate, is that right?" Draco continued.

"Yes sir!"

"Do you think you're ready for combat?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Are you sure about that? You never know who you will be pitted against in a war."

"Yes, sir!"

"Oh, I don't know. I haven't seen anything here to impress me yet," Harry interrupted, getting into character and staring nonchalantly at the group.

"Sir, may I suggest that you test their abilities yourself?" the captain offered, trying to suppress a grin.

Harry and Draco looked at each other and pretended to consider the offer. Finally, they nodded and Harry began removing his jacket and his shirt until he was left with only his singlet covering his torso, the scars on his arms and the tops of his shoulders and neck visible for all to see. Draco winced involuntarily but covered his reaction quickly

_Bloody hell! He looks like he's been through a meat grinder! _Draco shuddered.

"Can I have a volunteer to test their abilities against my colleague?" Draco called out, pointing at Harry, who was making a show of warming up the muscles in his arms and neck.

The group of soldiers spoke among themselves until one young man stepped forward. "Sir, I'll volunteer."

"Excellent. Soldiers, move back and give these gentlemen some space," their commander shouted, gesturing for the soldiers to move back.

"Good luck out there," Draco offered.

"Thanks, but they're pretty young and relatively inexperienced. I don't think I'll have too much of a problem. I'll keep my guard up though," Harry told him.

"Good. Oh, and this is just a suggestion, but I don't think you should be taking your shirt off around Ginny or Hermione, unless you want them to interrogate you about how you got all of your scars and then offer to make some ridiculous home remedy that's 'guaranteed' to make them fade," Draco said quietly.

"Good point," Harry nodded. "Um, I'd rather you didn't mention it to them either – or Ron, for that matter. They don't need to know and I don't want to have to answer their questions right now."

"I wasn't planning on saying a word," Draco assured him.

"Try not to hurt him _too _much," Captain Toricelli said when he returned to Harry's side. Harry had to work hard to suppress a laugh. Harry knew from experience that his former instructor believed in tough love and that sometimes you had to learn your lessons painfully, and he almost felt sorry for the soldiers – _almost_.

He rolled his eyes at the captain and stepped into the 'ring' with the young soldier.

"Begin whenever you're ready," Draco instructed.

Both men circled each other, sizing one another up and watching for the first signs of movement from their opponent. The young solider made the first attack, but Harry was ultimately more skilled and experienced. He made easy work of the young man's clumsy attacks, dodging or blocking each one and then responding with a painful counter attack.

Draco called the fight off before the young man suffered any permanent injuries. "I think that more or less decides the matter."

Harry walked over and offered a hand up to the young man, who was winded and sprawled on his back. He gripped it gratefully and Harry pulled him up. "You did really well. Just try not to rush your attacks so much next time. Use your head as well as your fists and you'll be fine. You've got good form, but you weren't watching me very closely. Watch my eyes and the way my muscles tense."

"Yes, sir," the young man said weakly, gripping his chest. "Sir, where did you get your training?"

Harry grinned. "I was trained by your captain. You show a lot of promise, keep working at it," Harry told the group, grinning at their surprise and reaching for his shirt and jacket.

"You _are _a little rusty. He shouldn't have been able to hit you at all," Captain Toricelli said, speaking professionally.

"Yeah, I know. I guess I _am _out of shape after all," Harry replied, buttoning up his shirt.

"Hang on, _that _was you _out _of shape?" Draco asked, impressed.

"He used to be able give me a run for my money," the military officer boasted, "though he could never actually _beat _me."

"Thanks again, Steven. I'll be back soon," Harry waved as he and Draco turned to leave.

"What?" Draco asked when he noticed Harry looking at him.

"Nothing," Harry said, quickly shaking his head. "I hope I didn't bore you today."

"No way. This was a very...interesting...trip. I'm glad I came along."

The two men walked the rest of the distance to the gate in silence. It didn't escape their notice that the soldier from this morning had been replaced by a different soldier who gave them no trouble when they passed by him and out of the gate.

"Thank you," Harry said to Draco, as he turned down the path that lead away from the base and to their port key point.

Draco looked closely at Harry and simply nodded. "So, do you think you could have some muggle fighting sessions with me? I mean, I know how to look after myself, but I don't have a strict form or a discipline."

"Er, sure. We can arrange early morning sessions, before breakfast. I don't think either of us will have much free time at any other time of the day, or maybe we can..."

OOOOO

It was pleasant outside and Ginny, Hermione and Ron sat outside the school, waiting for the two men to return from their errand.

"Oh, it looks like we were missed," Draco observed as he and Harry approached the front steps of the castle.

"Right," Harry nodded, though he wasn't so sure.

"Before I forget, you really should have Poppy look at your ankle. I'm sure she can do something with it. I think half the reason that kid managed to get so many punches past your guard was because you were trying to compensate for your ankle."

"Maybe," Harry said absently.

Draco stopped and grabbed Harry's arm to stop him. "He's back. If your ankle can't be fixed that's one thing, but if it can, you can't afford to let it slow you down."

Harry looked at Draco carefully and nodded. "You're right. I'll see her today."

"What took you two so long?" Ginny asked as they neared the front steps.

"Nothing, we just went to talk to someone," Draco said vaguely.

"That reminds me, Ron and I visited mum this morning and she told us to pass the message onto you, Harry, that she would love to have you round for dinner when you've got the time. We told her that you've been very busy and that you're still very busy, and she said that she might arrange to come and visit you here at the castle, didn't she, Ron?" Ginny asked her brother.

Ron clenched his jaw and looked away from everyone, earning disappointing looks from his sister, his wife and Draco. Harry stiffened and tried to push aside the stab of pain he felt at Ron's hostility.

"Excuse me," he said quietly, before he climbed the steps to the school.

"Don't forget to see Poppy," Draco called out before Harry disappeared into the school.

"He's going to see Poppy? Is he ill?" Hermione asked Draco, but Draco wasn't listening. He was too busy glaring balefully at Ron.

"Is this all really necessary?" Draco asked evenly. "You care about him, he cares about you, why can't you get past this?"

Ron continued to stare at a part of the school landscape, trying not to hear what Draco was saying.

"You're family, Ron, so let me just say this: Harry and I went to see...certain people...today. I know you have some things you need to think about, but I think that if you'd heard and seen what I did, you might feel a little differently to the way you do now." Draco told him, before he headed into the castle himself, in search of Severus.

_What on earth could he have seen?_ Hermione thought, frowning in concern.

OOOOO

Draco found Harry hours later at a small table in the darkest corner of the library, snoring softly from behind several large stacks of books.

"Hey, wake up," Draco said quietly, shaking Harry's shoulder and receiving nothing but a grunt for his efforts.

"Hey! Come on, wake up," Draco said a little more loudly, shaking Harry a little harder. Harry snapped his eyes open, grabbing Draco's wrist with one hand and reaching for his wand with the other.

"Shit!" Draco cried out, jumping back in surprise and earning a glare and a loud 'shush' from the librarian.

"Bloody hell! Don't _ever _do that to me again!" Harry exclaimed.

"If that's the way you react to someone waking up, believe me, I won't," Draco told him, still recovering. "I just wanted to tell you that it's time to head over for dinner."

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. I've got some things I need to do here and I'll grab something when I get back to my rooms," Harry told him, stretching and returning to his books.

Draco looked on disapprovingly. "Are you avoiding us?"

"...no, I've just been busy..."

"Surely you're not too busy to eat. If you're going to take a break to eat, you may as well take your break now. I'm sure these books will still be here when you get back."

"I'd really rather not," Harry told him without looking up from the page he was looking at. "I need to get this done. I'll break later but I really need to get back to what I'm doing."

"Okay, I'll just let Ginny and Hermione know where you are and that you're too busy to join us. They're not as understanding as I am though. They probably won't let the matter rest. At all. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they both came over here and dragged you by your ears into the Hall."

Harry thought about this. "They would, wouldn't they? You could always just tell them you don't know where I am."

Draco pretended to consider this. "No, actually I couldn't. I just can't lie to my wife. She'll see right through me in two seconds."

"You seemed to be very convincing when you were lying to Voldemort."

"While that's true, women are scary, they can spot a lie a mile away. If Voldemort was a woman he would have seen through me like I was made of glass."

"You'd really tell them?" Harry asked, sighing heavily.

"I really would," Draco replied without the smallest hesitation.

"Well, when you put it like that, I don't have much choice, do I?"

"No, not really," Draco replied, leading a grumpy Harry out of the library and through the winding maze of corridors.

"What where you researching in there? Some of those books look too old to be handled," Draco asked curiously.

Harry paused before answering. "I was trying to get to know my enemy," he said very softly.

"I thought you already knew him."

"I obviously didn't know him well enough. He has to have a weak point _somewhere_ about him, but I just can't see it."

"Do you want a hand?"

"Thanks, but I think I need to do it on my own. I'm not trying to be offensive, but you might not know what you're looking for and you might not realise it if you run across it."

"You've got a point. I notice you're not limping anymore," Draco noticing how differently Harry walked.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, looking down at his feet. "I saw Poppy earlier. She said that the sort of damage that was done used to be irreparable, but there have been some advances in potions and healing and in the end, she dosed me up with about ten potions and the re-broke my ankle and healed it up again. She must have been as strong as ten men though, because she re-broke my ankle with her _bare hands_!"

"Couldn't she have used her wand?" Draco asked curiously.

"I'm sure she could have, but she did it the other way. I think she enjoyed it too," Harry muttered. "And stop laughing, it's not funny."

"I'm not laughing," Draco told him, trying to choke down the rest of his mirth, "Oh good, we're not late, they haven't served dinner yet," he said, glad to be able to change the topic as they entered the Hall.

Harry hadn't eaten a meal in the Hall with the rest of the staff and students since everybody had discovered who his true identity and everybody in the room stopped and stared at him as he followed Draco to the staff table. His usual place at the table was still reserved for him but Harry was surprised to see Remus seated next to his place.

"When did Remus get here?" Harry asked Draco.

"I'm not sure, but he was looking for you earlier this afternoon." Draco told him.

"You're not limping anymore," Remus said when Harry took his seat.

"No, Poppy took care of my ankle earlier today," Harry explained.

"Why didn't you get it fixed straight away?" the older man asked curiously.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Oh, er, I don't think I could..." he said, unwilling to admit that he had tried to heal his ankle himself before he left the wizarding world. "Um..."

"Don't bother asking him, Remus. He won't tell you. He keeps a lot of things to himself." Ron sighed, throwing his napkin on the table and pushing his chair back.

"Ron –" Hermione began.

"Of course I've got secrets. We all do," Harry whispered harshly, leaning closer to him. "But if I told you mine, you'd never come near me again."

A tense silence fell over that end of the table and Harry stood up, mentally berating himself for allowing Draco talk him into joining everyone for dinner. He just created too much tension and awkwardness wherever he went. It was ridiculous to think that he could enjoy a meal in the Great Hall the way he used to. He'd only been 'Harry Potter' for about six weeks now, and he was already sick of it.

Remus tried to stop Harry before he left the table. "Harry –"

"I'm sorry I didn't get to see you earlier, but could you come by my rooms after dinner? We can talk there," Harry said impassively before he left the table and the Hall.

Albus looked reproachfully at Ron before instructing his students, who had been looking on with interest, to return to their dinner.

From his place next to Severus at the other end of the table, he was too far away to have heard what happened between Harry and Ron, but he could make a very good guess. "Damn!" Draco muttered."You have no idea how difficult it was to persuade him to finally come and join us for a meal and it took Ron about sixty seconds to undo all of my hard work."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I knew you had become friends, but I had no idea that you and Potter were so close."

Draco looked around him. "I don't think the others know what it means to have come face to face with..._him_. We have some idea, but the others don't, so they couldn't possibly know what it involves or what it does to a person. And he has to do it again. How can he focus on what he's doing if he's trying to deal with..._this_...too?" Draco asked quietly and gesturing around him.

"So you are concerned that he will not be able to perform?" Severus asked lightly.

"Harry and I have made our peace with each other, and I think we're even friends. I want you to be in no doubt that I'm concerned for him, but I'm not blind to the fact that a lot of people rely on him. If he fails, for any reason, we will all suffer the consequences."

Unable to argue the point, Severus looked back to the other end of the table, and the malicious side of him grinned inwardly at the sight of Ron looking decidedly uncomfortable in his seat between two women who looked to be giving him a piece their minds.

"I know you're my brother and I'll love you until the day I die, but I just need you know that I really don't like you right now," Ginny grated out through tightly clenched teeth.

Ron looked at her blankly.

"You're upset and so am I, but if you keep acting this way every time he comes near us, and you ruin my chance to get to know him again, I'll never forgive you, brother or not," she whispered harshly.

"Nor will I," Hermione agreed quietly.

Remus, on the other hand, was so angry that he didn't trust himself to speak. He stood up to follow Harry but Hermione grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Don't go after him. With Harry, it's best if you let him cool off for a little while before you see him," she said told him.

"I suppose you're right," he said, taking his seat again. "His father – and Sirius for that matter – were the same way," he added, a little sadly.

The rest of the meal passed uncomfortably for everybody in the Hall. A tense silence had settled over the staff table and Albus' stern gaze restrained the students from talking and speculating about what they had seen – at least until they had left the Hall.

OOOOO

Severus and Hermione had joined Draco and Ginny in the couple's rooms after dinner. Ron was noticeably absent, having decided to spend the rest of the evening on his own in the rooms he shared with Hermione.

The small group lounged comfortably in the sitting room listening to Draco describe the fight Harry had with the young soldier from the British military base.

"He was trained by a _muggle_ fighting instructor?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Yes, and I don't think anyone could have found someone more suited to the task. This guy's built like a mountain!"

"That certainly explains a few things," Severus observed, sipping his coffee.

He was met with three blank stares.

"Do you remember that day, some weeks after Christmas when a group of people armed with guns and other muggle weaponry attacked the pharmacy in the London muggle mall we were patrolling? I recall that we were all very curious to know why Potter, or 'Green', as he was known to us, chose to overcome the assailants using muggle methods rather than magical means. If he studied under a muggle fighting instructor, it stands to reason that he will feel comfortable using muggle methods," the former spy explained.

"But this raises a whole lot of other questions, doesn't it?" Hermione asked.

A loud and insistent knocking at the door put an end to the rest of the conversation.

"Don't move, sweetheart, I'll get it," Draco told his wife, getting up and heading over to the door.

"I wish _my _husband had Draco's manners," said Hermione pointedly.

Draco grinned rakishly at the girls before he opened the door.

"Draco! Is Hermione here, or Ginny?" Remus asked urgently and slightly out of breath.

"Yes, they're both here. Come on in, what's the matter?" the young man asked, showing his guest in and checking the corridor quickly before closing the door behind him.

"It's Harry - he is having one of his nightmares – or visions – now and I can't wake him. I thought that, since the girls grew up with Harry that they might have had more experience with this sort of thing and might know what to do," Remus explained in a rush.

"Of course, let's go," Ginny cried, leaping to her feet with Hermione right behind her.

"Is this one of _those_ nightmares, Ginny?" Draco asked. Early on in their relationship, Ginny had told him about the visions Harry used to have, particularly the one that saved her father's life. Harry had told her that whenever he dreamed about Voldemort, or had visions about him or something he'd done, he'd experiences terrible pain – both physical and emotional – like someone was trying to split his head into two.

"We'll come with you," Draco said, leading Severus and Remus out of the door.

"How did you know I was with Ginny and Draco?" Hermione asked Remus, curious as they hurried through the corridors.

"I didn't. I thought about seeing you and Ron first, but you weren't in your room, and Ron told me where you were. I didn't ask him to come along because he and Harry...well..."

"Yes, I know," Hermione muttered.

"It's awfully late, I thought you would have gone home long before now," said Ginny.

"Since Albus has requested I attend the meeting he has called for tomorrow morning, Harry invited me to stay the night," Remus said, refusing to talk about the meeting in such a public corridor, even if it was quite late. Unfriendly ears could be nearby and you could never be too cautious in times like these.

"I didn't think that the teacher's rooms had a spare bedroom. Ron's and Hermione's doesn't, and neither do ours," Ginny said, a little puzzled.

"We moved a sofa into the bedroom and transfigured it into a bed," Remus explained.

"Oh."

"I just threw a standard spell on his door and put a silencing spell over the rooms," Remus told them when they had reached the door to Harry's rooms. "Brace yourself," Remus warned them before he unlocked the door and let them in.

"Bloody hell!" Draco swore when the door opened and they were immediately assaulted by Harry's screams.

"Aaugh!" screamed Hermione, "Quickly, shut the door before anyone else hears him!"

They rushed through the sitting room to the source of the noise and found Harry writing and twisting on his bed. His sheets had been flung away, his shirt was twisted and had ridden half way up his torso, and his boxer shorts were hanging precariously low on his lean hips.

The scars that criss-crossed Harry's body were visible for all to see and Draco winced when he saw them, just as he had done earlier that day when Harry took his shirt off to fight the young soldier. Quick as a flash he moved to stand in front of Ginny and Hermione, who were still standing in the door way, and grabbed their arms to stop them from moving any further into the room.

"Draco, let go. Harry's in trouble, we have to help," Hermione cried, desperately trying to free herself from his grip.

"Let go of me this second, Draco or so help me, I'll never speak to you again!" Ginny cried, struggling against her husband.

"I'm sorry, but it's best if you stay here," Draco said evenly. The ravages of war had left their mark on Harry's body, and the girls didn't need to see that. Harry would show them when, or if, he was ever ready.

Remus couldn't understand for the life of him what Draco was doing. How were they to help Harry if his closest friends weren't allowed to get anywhere near him? Severus was quick to understand Draco's behaviour. Serving the Dark Lord was a hazardous occupation at best – deadly at worst – and one did not escape his service without evidence of his tasks, or his displeasure, carved into one's skin.

But as marred as his own skin was, the scars he could see on Harry made him pale slightly. One in particular caught his eye. It was thick welt that appeared to start somewhere near Harry's collarbone and it ran in straight sort of line right down to the top of his right hip bone – as though someone had tried to flay him alive. It was unsettling to see flesh – particularly flesh that belonged to someone so young – scarred so extensively. Someone Harry's age shouldn't bear marks like that – actually, no one should. But wasn't that why they had fought Voldemort? To keep others from having to endure his wrath?

It was good that Hermione and Ginny could not see this. He couldn't help but believe that in this situation, the fuss caused by their reactions to Harry's horrific scarring would be more of a hinderance than a help.

Though they couldn't see his scars, Harry's screams and his writhing body were unsettling in themselves and Draco's chest contracted painfully at the sight of the unshed tears in his wife's eyes and the pained expression on her face, which was mirrored on Hermione's.

Severus worked hard to push aside the twisting in his stomach. Seeing Potter brought back memories of watching others undergo torture at Voldemort's hands, or the hands of other Death Eaters – or even himself – and it affected him more than he'd care to admit. He knew that Potter had experienced visions when he was a student at the school, and he guessed that they were unpleasant, but he had no idea that they gave him so much pain. He privately wondered just how many nights Potter had spent like this.

Remus had already moved to Harry's side and risked being hit by one of Harry's flailing limbs in his bid to wake him up.

"Come on, Harry, snap out of it!" Remus called while he slapped his face and shook his shoulders. But to no avail. Harry appeared to be completely oblivious.

The Potions Master looked about the room, moving quickly to look through the drawers on Harry's bedside cupboards.

"What are you doing?" Remus cried.

"I am looking for something that I can give to him to calm him down. Perhaps a calming draught or some sort of powder," Severus replied impassively, rifling quickly through each of the drawers in turn. He found nothing of use in the drawers and hurried to the set of drawers on the other side of the bed. "It would be just like him to know he has a problem and not bother to keep the appropriate potions and treatments on hand," he muttered.

"I never actually saw Harry when he was having one of his nightmares. Ron shared a dormitory with him for years and he used to say that all the shaking and slapping in the world seldom did any good, that he'd normally come out of it by himself," Hermione said.

"He's going to hurt himself if he keeps flailing around like that. Remus, maybe you should put him in a body bind," Ginny suggested, amidst tears.

"That would do him more harm than good. His muscles are already contracting at an extreme rate. Our muscles are not supposed to remain rigid and contracted for long periods of time, and if we were to cast the body bind on him while his muscles were tense, we run the risk of causing muscle damage," Severus told them, now looking through Harry's wardrobe having found nothing useful in the drawers. "Do you know if he keeps any potions on hand in his rooms?" Severus asked in annoyance, not liking his chances of finding anything in the wardrobe either.

"I think he mentioned once that he kept his potions in his study, since that's where he makes them," Draco replied, recalling a conversation he'd had with 'Jason'.

"Where is his study?" Severus asked, rearranging everything back into the wardrobe and closing the doors.

"It's the room next to the kitchen," Remus answered, watching warily as Severus pulled his wand out and pointed it at Harry.

"I am simply putting a blanket back over him," Severus explained, noticing Remus' look of distrust.

"He'll just kick them back off," Remus pointed out.

"He will not be able to," Severus said vaguely before he muttered a short spell and directed one of the blankets back over Harry's body. With a flick of his wand, he watched the covers latch themselves onto the bed. Curiously, the covers appeared to be loose enough to give Harry some room to move, but they stayed on the bed, even though Harry was still thrashing about.

"I've never seen a spell that could do that," Remus said, a little surprised.

"It is often used to confine people to their beds in hospitals – among other things," Severus explained, though he added the last part under his breath. Remus looked at Severus, but his face remained an unreadable mask.

"I'll come along with you to look for the potions," Draco said, releasing his grip on the girls and watching them rush to Harry's side. "The blanket was a good idea," he added when Severus joined him in the doorway.

Severus simply grunted and lead the way out of the room.

OOOOO

It didn't take long for the two men to find the study, and when they entered the room, Severus was unable to do anything except stand in the doorway and take in everything about it, while Draco searched for his supply of potions. A long bench was pushed agaisnt the wall next to the door with a sink stretched out behind it. The bench was carefully partitioned off in the middle. On one side, cauldrons and vials, holding various coloured liquids, were carefully lined up and Harry's hastily scribbled notes were stacked neatly in a corner in front of a particularly large cauldron labelled "Experimental potion – Epilepsy".

On the other side of the partition, beakers, test tubes and a pestle and mortar were lined up across the surface. One beaker was laballed "Medication – Theresa", and another "Experimental medication – Epilepsy". More of Harry's scribbled notes were to be found on another corner on top of a few thick textbooks. A tall narrow cupboard was pushed up against the back wall and every unused space on the wall was adorned with book shelves, every shelf was lined with books from both the muggle and the wizarding worlds.

_A place for everything and everyting in its place, but where on earth did he learn so much about potions?_ Severus thought, taking in all the details.

"I think this is it," Draco called from the far end of the room.

Severus shook his head to clear it and strode over to join Draco in front of the cupboard.

"It looks like it's all organised, but some of the symbols are a bit obscure and don't mean much to me," Draco admitted.

The top shelves of the cupboard housed Harry's muggle medicines, medicinal ingredients and tools, and the bottom shelves housed Harry's potions, potion ingredients and equipment.

Severus crouched down to take a closer look at the labels on the vials. After a few moments, he carefully picked up three vials and closed the cupboard door.

"I assume that those symbols on the labels mean something to people who make potions," Draco noted, following Severus out of the study.

"Those symbols are universal potions symbols," Severus explained tersely.

"I know I wasn't great when it came to potions, but I don't remember learning those at school," said Draco.

"I do not teach my students the chart of universal potions symbols. Where Potter learned it, and who he learned it from, is anybody's guess," Severus snapped.

OOOOO

The two men returned to the room to find Ginny and Hermione standing a small distance away from the bed, to avoid being hit accidentally.

"I can't stand to see him like this," Ginny sobbed.

"Neither can I," Hermione agreed, unable to take her eyes off Harry.

"We were unable to find anything that would be of any use to him now, though we do have some potions that he should take as soon as he is able to," Severus explained, moving quickly across the room and handing the vials to Remus, explaining each of them in turn.

"This one is a headache potion. He had this potion in different strengths, but this is the strongest one."

Remus took the vial and frowned at the symbol on the label.

"Harry uses universal potions symbols," Draco explained, catching Remus' look.

Remus just looked at Draco and raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"This," Severus continued, "is a calming draught. He also has this potion in different strengths but I recommend that he take the strongest one, which is this one."

Remus accepted the vial and looked carefully at the symbol on its label.

"He should also take this serum if he feels nauseus, which he may do after taking such strong potions," Severus said, handing Remus the third vial.

"So there was nothing in there that could help him now?" Ginny demanded.

"There was not, he will need to come out of this himse-" the Potions Master began before he noticed that Harry had stopped screaming and thrashing about.

Harry sat up, gasping heavily. He trembled heavily and he let his head fall into his hands and the tears spill from his eyes. Neither Severus, Draco, Ginny, Hermione or Remus moved or spoke. They simply watched the young man carefully. It was only when Harry's breathing had evened itself out that Hermioned timidly said, "Um, Harry?"

Harry's head shot up, and for the first time, he really registered that there were other people in the room with him. "Oh my God," he groaned, trying to hide himself under the covers.

"It's alright," Ginny said carefully. "We just want to make sure you're okay."

Harry adjusted his clothes, untangled himself from his sheets and stumbled across the room. He fervantly wished for the ground to open up and swallow him – something, anything, so that they wouldn't stare at him.

"Harry," Hermione called out, "Where are you going?"

"I-It's not alright. Nothing's a-alright. I-I'm sorry, I just –" Harry tried to explain, but the little strength that he had left in his limbs gave out on him and he passed out onto the floor.

"Harry!" Ginny cried, rushing over to him. "Oh my God," she cried when she caught sight of the scars that decorated the backs of Harry's arms and legs.

"Who on earth..._how _on earth..." Ginny mumbled quietly while she held him gently, lightly tracing some of the scars on one of Harry's arm.

"I think we can make a good guess about _who_ might have been responsible for this, but I can only _imagine_ how he got them," Draco told her and Severus – without knowing he'd done it – nodded in agreement. The Potions Master caught Draco looking at him and his face quickly lost any manner of expression it might have shown.

"_You _don't have this many scars," Ginny observed to her husband.

"No, I don't," he agreed grimly. "But then again, I'm not 'Harry Potter'."

"Ron should see this," Ginny said, leaping to her feet fully intending to find Ron and drag him – by the ear if necessary – to Harry's room.

"No he should not," Severus said fimly, stopping her in her tracks.

Ginny and Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"Severus is right, there is no reason to let Ron see this," Remus agreed.

"But –" Ginny tried to protest.

"He is not thinking clearly at the moment and, scars notwithstanding, he couldn't possibly understand the extent of what Harry has had to endure – and what he must _still _endure – if he cannot see past his own feelings and his own pain. With things as they are between them, all that might happen is that Ron might feel sorry for Harry, but you must know how much Harry hates people feeling sorry for him. I think it would make things worse if Harry felt that Ron pitied him," Remus told her. Ginny considered this and reluctantly nodded her agreement.

"I think the worst is over," Remus observed, getting to his feet and grabbing his wand from one of Harry's bedside chests of drawers. "If you will assist, Severus, I think it would be easiest to levitate Harry back into bed.

Severus drew his wand wordlessly and between them, made short work of the task. Hermione and Ginny followed them to the bed and fussed excessively over the bedcovers.

"It looks as though you can manage from here, so we'll show ourselves out," Draco said. Remus would be able to keep an eye on Harry, but he knew that the girls wouldn't leave unless they were removed from the room.

"I want to stay. I _need _to see that he'll be okay," Ginny protested.

"He's going to be fine. If what Ron says is true, he's had a lot of these nightmares. They're painful, but they're not _harmful_, strictly speaking. There's no need for you to stay here. Remus can watch over Harry," Draco told her, coming over to put an arm around her waist and lead her out of the room.

Hermione made to follow but she caught a glimpse of a photograph on the chest of drawers. "He looks happy here. I don't remember the last time he looked _really _happy," she observed a little sadly.

Ginny looked at Hermione curiously, so Hermione handed her the picture.

"His partner looked like a really nice man," she said quietly, handing the picture back.

"Greg. His name was Greg," Hermione told her, taking the picture and standing it back up on the table top.

"It's getting quite late," Draco observed, having to tug his wife a little to get her out of the room.

"Thank you for coming, I really was at a loss," Remus thanked them, following them out of the room.

"So were we," Ginny admitted.

"I know this goes without saying, but I trust that we will all be discreet about this," he said, with a pointed look at Severus, who simply raised in eyebrow.

"Was that for my benefit?" Severus sneered.

"Yes. If you use the knowledge of what you've just seen in any way that would hurt Harry, I _will _come after you." Remus replied bluntly.

"It will do you no good to threaten me. You will find yourself greatly outmatched," the Potions Master said coldly before he turned on his heel and let himself out of the rooms.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Hermione said, giving Remus a quick kiss on the cheek before she followed Draco and Ginny out of the door.

OOOOO

The next morning, Harry stirred himself awake to the sensation of having someone smoothing his hair back from his forehead. In his half sleepy state, he thought it must have been Greg, but when he opened his eyes, he found Remus sitting on the bed beside him.

"Remus?" Harry asked quietly, blinking to adjust his eyes to the bright sunlight that was flooding through his windows.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked him, taking in his pasty appearance and the dark rings under his eyes.

"Terrible...and I just want the ground to swallow me up. I know you, Hermione and Ginny were here last night, but who else was here?" Harry groaned.

"You couldn't see?" Remus asked, surprised.

"I didn't have my glasses on, so I couldn't see a thing."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I can't see more than about a foot in front of my face without them. Why?" Harry asked, suddenly afraid of the answer.

"It's nothing. I just didn't realise the extent of your shortsightedness. Ginny, Hermione and I were the only ones here. I went to find them after you started yelling and thrashing about. I thought that since you were so close at school, that they might be able to help.

"Oh, good," Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Um, can I have a hand getting up, just so I can get to the potions cabinet in my study?"

"I thought you might need a few potions this morning, so I came prepared," Remus said, moving off the bed and grabbing the potions and a large glass of juice for Harry to drink.

The vials were labeled in potions symbols, surprising Harry that Remus seemed to be to identify them. "I had no idea that you understood universal symbols."

"I'm not just a pretty face. I have any number of hidden skills," Remus boasted, earning a weak smile from his friend's son.

Harry approved his choices of potions and downed them each in one gulp.

"You're brave. If it were me, I'd be washing each one of them down with about a litre of juice," Remus remarked seriously.

"I've discovered that potions don't necessarily have to taste like dirty underwear. I add glucose and flavouring to mine so they're really not too bad," Harry explained with pride.

Remus looked suspiciously at Harry. "And you know what dirty underwear tastes like, how?" He moved just in time to avoid Harry's half-hearted attempt at a punch.

"I'll give those potions about half an hour to kick in and then you can come out and have some toast with me. After that, we've a meeting to go to," Remus said, looking carefully at Harry. "Though, under the circumstances, I'm sure Albus would excuse you and let me just fill you in on what was discussed.

"Bugger, I almost forgot about that. No, I'll go. I'm fine now, so there's no reason to miss anything," Harry said quickly. "At least I have time for a shower between now and breakfast though. Pew!" he grimaced, sniffing one armpit. "I smell of day old sweat!"

"While that's true," Remus grinned, "Are you sure you should try standing so soon?"

Harry reconsidered. "You're right. I might give it ten minutes, and _then _I'll head to the bathroom." He flopped back onto his pillows, and sighed heavily. "Hey, Remus, I'm thinking of getting a motor bike, like Sirius'. Do you know where he got his?"

Remus blinked in surprise, not expecting such idle chatter from a man who had screamed himself hoarse just a few hours ago. While both men waited for the potions to begin to take effect, Remus fondly the day that Sirius had showed off his motor bike for his friends. Harry was surprised to find that it was in fact his mother who hinted that Arthur Weasley would be interested to see his bike, since he had a fondness for all things muggle. Between them, Sirius and Arthur managed to enchant the bike to fly. His mother would often curse the day she encouraged Sirius to talk to Arthur and she blamed herself for the "unwholesome alliance" that developed. No muggle appliances in their home were safe from Sirius' and Arthur's attentions after that and though Lily thought it extremely annoying. Harry would find it amusing to watch his mother run from a toaster that was chasing her around the kitchen.

Harry could just picture his godfather and Mr Weasley doing something like that and he laughed at the idea of his mother being chased by her kitchen appliances. Sirius had often said that his mother had a fiery temper to go with her red hair and he didn't know what was funnier – his godfather's prank or the thought of what his mother would have done to them once she caught up with them.

Though they would both much rather have spent the day in fond reminiscences, they had a meeting to go to, and Remus watched the light in Harry's eyes disappear, as he dragged himself off the bed and walked – a little unsteadily – to the bathroom. Remus flicked his wand and put a large pot of coffee on to boil and sat down at the small table in Harry's kitchenette to wait for him to come out of the shower. Neither of them had had much sleep and could both do with a strong dose of caffeine before they went to the meeting.


	16. chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own the whole concept of Harry Potter or any of its characters. Only the plot is my own.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed (and Awen, thank you very much) and a big thank you to my beta/ editor-in-chief/compadre, **Sepia**. Your efforts are greatly appreciated and you don't get nearly enough credit for your involvement with, and input into, the story.

**CHAPTER 16**

As a teenager, Harry would have given his right arm to sit in on an Order meeting. He had imagined that secrets were shared during these meetings and that members would spend this time to form all manner of cunning and stealthy plans to stay two steps ahead of their enemies. If he had known then just how wrong he'd turn out to be, he wouldn't have wasted so much of his time getting caught by Mrs Weasley while trying to eavesdrop.

Despite the number of meetings that they'd had since Voldemort had returned, nothing productive seemed to have come out of them. Now that Voldemort knew where Snape's and the younger Malfoy's loyalties lay, they had lost a valuable source of information about the Dark Lord's movements.

The Order members had talked of trying to prepare another spy to infiltrate Voldemort's inner ranks, but Albus had finally decided that the risk of sending in another spy was far too great. The Order had proven that it was indeed possible to infiltrate the ranks of the Death Eaters, but the Dark Lord rarely made the same mistake twice. He would be much more cautious about who he permitted to serve him now. Harry hoped that the information he would be able to give them about his vision last night would bring them closer to making a move against Voldemort.

Harry stood before the large statue of the griffin that guarded the passageway to Albus's office and looked carefully about him to make sure that no one was watching him.

"Chocolate Niblets," he said quietly. The griffin closed its wings and moved aside to allow Harry to the spiral staircase that ascended to Albus's office.

Most of the members had already gathered by the time Harry arrived. They had been chatting amongst themselves, Harry could hear them from the staircase, but most of them stopped talking and turned to look at him when he stepped inside the room – the way they did almost every time he walked into a room full of people. They'd been working side by side with 'Harry Potter' for some weeks now, and Harry was chagrined that he still had this effect on them. This would certainly take some getting used to.

The Headmaster's office was large, larger even than the Gryffindor Common Room, but Harry was struck by how small and crowded it looked today. Gone were the gadgets that had always decorated a large part of the office. In its place were row upon row of soft squishy leather chairs, arranged in a semi circle before Albus's large desk, which was bare save for the sword of Godric Gryffindor which lay reverently on a soft cushion under a large glass case.

Fawkes trilled loudly and left his perch to sit on top of the glass case, looking proud. Harry smiled. _Of course Fawkes should feel proud, _he thought. Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride himself as he recalled the events of his second year at Hogwarts.

Fawkes had saved his life when he had come face to face with the basilisk unleashed from the Chamber of Secrets by the spectre of a sixteen year-old Tom Riddle. All had seemed lost until the phoenix had delivered the sorting hat to him, from which he pulled Gryffindor's sword and skewered the beast. The wound Harry had received in the process was healed by the phoenix before the poison could run its course, quashing any plans he might have had of dying in the chamber.

The phoenix spread his wings and nodded deeply to Harry from his place on the glass case, and Harry returned the sentiment, bowing deeply in a gesture of profoundest respect to the bird that had saved his life so many years ago.

"Good morning, young Master Potter. It is always a pleasure to see you," Armando Dippet greeted Harry from his portrait, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room.

"Thank you, Headmaster, you're looking well this morning," Harry replied politely.

"Why thank you. Professor Dumbledore just recently had me restored, you know," the former Headmaster beamed.

"It's made a big difference, not that you weren't impressive before, though."

"If I hear any more of this simpering I think I'll be sick," came a sneer from a set of frames next to Dippet's.

"Headmaster Nigellus," Harry bowed politely.

"Hmm. At least you've learned a _few_ manners, boy. I'll say that for you," Phineas said, narrowing his eyes at Harry.

Harry snorted and held out his arm for Fawkes

"Or perhaps not," Phineas said snidely.

The room full of people continued to stare at him as Fawkes perched on his arm and used his beak to arrange his feathers about him. As always, the phoenix knew instinctively where his pain was. It trilled a soft lilting melody and his aches and pains immediately began to disappear and his tiredness seemed to evaporate.

"Thanks Fawkes," Harry murmured, stroking the bird's silky feathers as it leaned in and cried pearly tears onto Harry's scar.

The tears left a silky trail of tingling coldness behind it as it traced a path down his scar, seeming to extinguish the fiery pain that had threatened to tear it apart only hours before, and easing the throbbing in his head.

A sea of faces greeted him when he looked up, reminding him that he was, once again, making a spectacle of himself. Fawkes seemed to sense his unease and sang softly, pointing with his head to where Ginny, Hermione and Remus were standing.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you could read minds, too," Harry said, moving toward them. They were standing in a corner by themselves, each nursing a mug in their hands. He didn't miss the look that they exchanged when they saw him approach, the same look that conspirators give one another when they know something that somebody else doesn't. Normally, he'd corner them and try to pry the information out of them; but for some reason, he didn't seem to care too much. Fawkes trilled happily and nuzzled at his neck.

"…I told him only –" Remus said in hushed tones before he was interrupted.

"Morning Harry," Hermione greeted him brightly. A little _too_ brightly.

"Morning," Ginny echoed, equally as cheerful.

"Morning," Harry said quietly. He was still embarrassed that she, Ginny and Remus had seen him while he was having one of his nightmares.

"Er, I have to ask, how on earth did you do that?" Hermione asked, pointing at Fawkes who was resting his head on Harry's shoulder.

"Do what?" Harry asked.

"_That_. A phoenix is absolutely loyal to its master. Some phoenixes will allow people other than their master to touch them, but they rarely go to someone who isn't their master," Hermione explained.

"I don't know about _that_," Harry replied, "But Fawkes and I are old friends. Aren't we?" he asked the bird, who trilled a happy agreement.

"Ah, I forgot about your episode in the Chamber," Hermione said, realisation dawning. "I _was _petrified at the time, though, so a few memories are bound to slip through," she grinned.

"So, how are you?" Ginny asked, sounding casual but giving Harry's face a thorough once-over.

"I'm fine. I've had a couple of cups of Remus's coffee and it _was_ potent. _Nobody_ could be tired after that."

"Well, you look much better than you did before Se-" Ginny began.

Remus suddenly doubled over coughing violently and gripping his throat.

Suspecting his friend's tea had gone down the wrong pipe, Harry rushed over, thumping on his back in an attempt to be helpful.

"Thank you Harry, I owe you one," Remus said when the coughing finally subsided, shooting a weary glance at Ginny.

"No problem," Harry replied before turning back to Ginny. "You were saying?

"Hmm?" Ginny asked looking confused. "Oh right. I was just saying that you were looking absolutely dreadful before Sev-"

"SPELLS!" Remus shouted suddenly, shoving Ginny aside with his body. "You promised to demonstrate the new concealment spells that you helped to develop."

"Er, right." Harry looked suspiciously at Remus, then Ginny and then back at Remus, who was looking at him with big innocent eyes.

"Er…look, about last night..." Harry began in explanation, suspecting Remus's interruptions were nothing more than an attempt to avoid any discussions about what had happened last night.

"It's all right, Harry. You don't need to talk about it if you don't want to, particularly as so many people appear to be so very interested in you right now," Remus said pointedly, looking at the other professors in the room, many of whom were still staring at them.

"I _do _seem to attract quite a bit of attention."

"I'll say," Hermione nodded.

The door opened and Albus entered the room followed closely by Snape and Draco.

Fawkes sang loudly when he saw Albus and flew over to the Headmaster, sitting on his arm, much as he'd sat on Harry's.

"I think he likes you," Albus smiled, carrying his bird back to his perch. "Perhaps now is a good time to begin our meeting."

As usual, Harry claimed a seat for himself near the door. He looked behind him, expecting to find Remus, but he was surprised to see that Remus was still standing in the corner, talking to Hermione and Ginny. He wondered what they had to talk about that couldn't be done in front of him.

"I would have expected everybody to have seated themselves by now," Albus began, smiling but looking pointedly at Remus, Hermione and Ginny. The trio apologised and rushed to their seats. Remus found a seat by Harry, and the two girls joined Ron, Snape and Draco by the window on the other side of the room that looked out onto the Quidditch pitch.

Hermione and Ginny looked apologetically at Harry. _Probably_, Harry thought, _because they hadn't joined him_. Ron avoided looking at him, which made a nice change from the way he had been picking an argument with him every chance he could find since he had been exposed in his disguise. He was hoping that he and Ron would have been able to make things up with each other by now. Telling Ron what he wanted to know might have put an end to the hostility, but it would also involve admitting certain things to other people that he didn't even want to admit to himself and he wasn't prepared to do that.

Draco sat by Snape, speaking quietly to him and pointing at the newspaper in his hand every now and then as if to emphasise a point, but the professor didn't look like he was listening to him at all. He was too busy staring at Harry. Harry had seen that look before. It was the same look he had when he was inspecting potions ingredients for a single flaw that might ruin an otherwise perfectly good potion. It made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"I shan't keep you longer than is necessary," Albus began."I have been attempting to re-forge our friendships with some of the other 'communities' for some time now. The Dementors have always supported Voldemort, but other communities, such as the Centaurs, the Goblins and the Werewolves, have been reluctant to befriend either side. Their strength will be important to us, so Minerva, Remus and I will leave to meet with some of them the day after tomorrow. I do not expect to be gone for more than ten days. In my absence, Severus and Hermione will share the Headmaster's duties."

Hermione seemed to sit a little straighter in her chair for hearing this.

"Does anybody have anything they wish to add?" Albus invited, looking expectantly around the room.

"Actually, _I _have some information you need to hear, but I don't know how to explain it," Harry said quickly. "It…concerns a 'vision' I had last night," Harry began hesitantly, disturbed at how close he was to sounding as if he were channelling Professor Trelawney.

"It was Voldemort, I'm sure…he was in a room full of people. There must have been about fifty people in front of me, all kneeling in their Death Eater Robes, with their hoods up and their faces down. I—_Voldemort_, that is to say—made a big speech –"

"Can you remember what was said?" Albus interrupted him.

"I can't remember everything, but he said something like that he'd 'returned to them all as promised, and that things would be done differently this time; for although it was the beginning of a new age, it was time to revive old traditions'." Harry paused for a moment, as he searched his memory. "He was going to lead his Death Eaters in some type of raid, to 'show the filthy Muggles and Mudbloods why they would always be superior to them.' But he warned them against raising the Dark Mark, because he said, 'It is not yet time'."

"Was that all he said?" Minerva asked.

Harry paused again, not sure how to impart his next bit of information. "There…was…a mirror on the other wall and I…caught a look at his face. It wasn't the face of Voldemort, as we know it to be. It…looked the face of…_Salazar Slytherin_."

The room fell into a tense and uncertain silence, only to be broken by the headmaster's soft voice.

"It was common knowledge among the Death Eaters during the last war that Voldemort was dissatisfied with the body he had chosen to return in. Though his magic was as powerful and as strong as it had always been, he felt the limitations of his body keenly. His body was created from odd elements, which meant that it could not grow and develop, so he lacked real physical strength and robustness," Albus explained.

"Be that as it may," Albus continued, "Severus and Draco discovered that he had begun conducting research into the transfer of one's essence from one body to another."

"Do you mean like the way he inhabited Professor Quirrell's body?" Harry asked.

"That was more along the lines of a parasitic inhabitancy. It was necessary for him, in his primitive state, to find a living, breathing host that could support his life essence as well. The research Albus is referring to concerns transferring his essence into an empty vessel, something that he can inhabit on his own, whether it is temporarily or on a more permanent basis," Hermione explained. "There are a lot of _theories _out there, but nothing that I found to be really solid."

"Some of the more radical wizards have claimed that they have found a way to make this transfer possible. Neither Draco nor myself could ever find out for certain whether the Dark Lord had indeed discovered a way to do this, but if Potter really did have a vision about Slytherin –" Snape supplied.

"I _did_," Harry leapt in.

"_If _he did," Snape continued, ignoring the interruption, "then it would seem that the Dark Lord has found a way to make a theoretical possibility a reality,"

"Harry, you've had visions before that weren't 'true' visions – ones that were sent to you deliberately by Voldemort to pass some false information," Hermione said delicately "Could this vision that you're talking about have been a false vision?"

Harry _had _seen false visions before, particularly during those years after he had left Hogwarts to take on further training for his upcoming role in the war. None of those had been as dreadful as the vision that had been sent to him by Voldemort during his fifth year where he had seen Sirius being tortured to death in the Ministry of Magic and had decided to try and save him. That sequence of events had led to the death of his godfather and to this day he hadn't completely forgiven himself for that.

"I suppose so," Harry finally admitted.

"I disagree somewhat with your assertion, Hermione," Albus interjected. "We know that Voldemort has returned to us in some fashion. We also have first hand knowledge of wide spread acts of violence in the Muggle communities, which is why we have all spent time patrolling various Muggle inhabited areas. All of this corresponds with the information Harry is giving us. Not surprisingly though, the Wizarding newspapers have run no such corresponding reports."

"But why Salazar Slytherin?" Professor Sinistra queried. "Perhaps he's wearing a disguise?"

"What for? Everyone knows that Slytherin died centuries ago, so he won't be fooling anyone. Anyway, it wouldn't matter _what_ Voldemort looked like to his Death Eaters. They'd follow him regardless of his appearance," Harry argued.

"I cannot think of any other explanation for this phenomenon. Voldemort must have discovered a way to use Salazar Slytherin's body as a host for his essence," Albus said softly.

It seemed that every witch and wizard in the room began talking at once about the implications of it all.

Harry didn't quite know what to believe. The idea was slightly absurd, but then, he'd seen Pettigrew brew up a new body for his master in a cauldron. If Voldemort could do that, inhabiting the body of his ancestor didn't seem like it was such a stretch of the imagination after all – though it sent chills down his spine.

"Does that mean that Voldemort's power has increased now? That he's able to use Slytherin's strength as his own?" Ginny asked.

"I wouldn't think so," Hermione replied. "Voldemort is using Slytherin's body as nothing but a host. The body is a shell, nothing more. It has no magical strength except what Voldemort brings to it himself. Of course, if Slytherin preserved some of his magic into his body, then that would be a different story altogether. But I doubt he did anything of the sort. He couldn't possibly have known that someday one of his descendants was going to inhabit his body and would need him to preserve some of his magic."

"Though we cannot rule out that, however remote it may be, there is still the possibility that Slytherin _did _preserve some magic within his body," Snape added.

"Not that he _needs_ any more magic from Slytherin," Ron muttered.

"Was that all you saw in your vision?" Albus prompted Harry, bringing the conversation back to him.

"Yes," Harry lied. The truth was he had seen much more than that. Voldemort had taken part in the Muggle hunting himself, so Harry saw all of the horrors of their hunt. The way they'd tortured and then slaughtered Muggles, who had no hope of defending themselves against the dark magic. Not even the elderly or the women and children had been spared.

Albus looked closely at Harry and then at Remus, who shook his head and very carefully mouthed, "Later."

"It does not make sense," Snape declared suddenly, and to no one in particular.

"Pardon? What doesn't make sense?" Hermione asked.

"Everything. Everything about that vision is wrong. The Dark Mark was always raised over the victims of a hunt, or inscribed somewhere nearby. It's the Dark Lord's signature. True, he enjoys Muggle hunting, but he enjoys the fear he can inspire even more – which is why it makes no sense that he did not raise the mark on this occasion. Perhaps even more strange than that, though, is that during the time I was associated with the Dark Lord, I have never known him to participate in a Muggle raid."

"Neither have I," Draco added. "Father used to tell me that Muggle hunting is something he used to indulge in when he was younger, but abandoned when he gathered his Death Eaters. He just didn't expose himself like that. Since no one, except us, knows he's back though, he isn't really exposing himself by participating this time, particularly as he didn't raise the mark. Maybe he just wanted to relive the 'good old days'," Draco suggested.

Snape shook his head. "I disagree. The Dark Lord does not act unless it will benefit himself in some way, and I do not see the benefit he will gain from doing this."

"Nor do I," Albus said, shaking his head.

"Maybe we should think about forcing his hand," Harry volunteered. "Tell the public about Voldemort. He's got supporters in the very high places, like the Ministry and the banks. Not everyone will believe us but enough might that his supporters might start feeling the pressure bear down on them a little and they'll have to go underground. We can find them and find out what Voldemort is planning and flush him out that way."

"We will not be believed –"Albus began.

"I know, I know, it was just a thought," Harry sighed. "It'll have to come out eventually though."

"Yes, it will. But timing is everything. Voldemort, or one of his supporters, will make an error, and when he does, we will bring the truth to light in such a way that everybody will have no choice _but _to believe us. Now is not the time though. We have plenty of work to do. So, unless anyone has anything further to add, I will not keep you," Albus said, dismissing the group.

The Order members filed out of the room quietly and sombrely. Besides a few hushed whispers, no one, it seemed, felt much like chatting.

"Why don't you go on ahead, Harry? I'll catch up with you in a minute," Remus said.

"Er, alright." Harry looked suspiciously at his father's best friend.

"It's all right. I just need to have a word to Severus, about my potions."

"Okay. I'll see you later. Goodbye, Fawkes," Harry called to the phoenix, who trilled lightly as he left the room.

OOoOO

Remus quickly crossed the room, toward the small group of Order members still seated by the window.

"Harry had a vision last night," Ron stated soberly when Remus joined them.

"Yes," Remus nodded.

"How bad was it?"

"That was the first time I've ever seen him during one of them. He seemed to be in agony."

"Why didn't you call me? I might be angry as hell at him, but I would have helped."

"With things as they stand between the two of you, he wouldn't have wanted you there, so calling you is the last thing I would have done. In fact, he was embarrassed that anybody saw him at all."

"It always took a bit of effort to bring him out of one of his visions. He used to thrash about so much that it was hard to get near enough to him to help, but you made sure that he couldn't hurt himself, didn't you? And that he had potions to take for the pain when he woke up?"

"Yes, I did," Remus looked closely at Ron. "It would be nice, though, if you and he stopped this nonsense and got on with things."

Ron folded his arms across his chest obstinately. "I don't take kindly to family members who just up and leave me without so much as a good bye – and he _is _a part of my family, whether _he_ likes it or not."

"This is all getting just a tad _too_ _sentimental_ for me, so I believe I shall take my leave," Snape scoffed, heading toward the door.

"Actually, I was rather hoping to have a word with you," Remus said before he could move too far. Turning around, the Potions Master raised an eyebrow, but moved no further.

"What could _you _have to discuss with _me_?"

"I just needed to have a quick word with you and Hermione about the research I was doing for the both of you."

"Research?" Ron asked, screwing up his nose. "She's got _you _doing research for her as well? I have a feeling that I'm going to be fighting hard to stay awake if I stay for this. Are you coming Draco? Ginny?"

"Draco and I have matters to discuss with the Headmaster," Snape said, narrowing his eyes slightly at the werewolf who looked for all the world like the picture of calm and innocence.

"Oh, _oh_. Of _course _you'd have things to talk about. So it's just you and me then, Gin," Ron said, using the nickname he'd always called her by when they were very young.

"Don't call me _Gin_," she said with a touch of exasperation, mixed with just a hint of fondness for the nickname she hadn't heard in so many years. "And I'll wait for Draco."

"All right then. I'll see you later on," he said, heading for the door.

"What is so important that I was not permitted to leave the room?" Snape asked, with not the least bit of interest, once Ron had left the room.

"Ssh." Remus hissed, casting a glance at Albus and Professor Sinistra, who were still deep in discussion on the other side of the room. "It's about what happened last night. As far as Harry knows, only Hermione, Ginny and I were in the room with him last night. He doesn't know that the two of you were there as well, and I don't want him to find out," Remus explained, looking at the two former spies.

"I should have guessed that this would have something to do with _Potter_," Snape said, rolling his eyes.

"Didn't he see us? I mean, I was standing right by his bed," Draco asked, ignoring Snape.

"That's just it. He _didn't _see you. He wasn't wearing his glasses, so he couldn't see very much at all. In fact, the only reason he knows that anyone was in the room at all was because he _heard_ Ginny and Hermione. He was humiliated enough to know that anyone saw him that way at all, so I told him that the three of us were the only ones who saw him," Remus said.

"We'll stick to the story. But he doesn't have any reason to be embarrassed. He didn't bring that nightmare on himself," Ginny said, her eyes full of concern.

"Many years ago, he began learning the art of Occlumency in an effort to reduce his receptiveness to these visions. If he had mastered the skill he would not have had a vision last night," Snape lectured. "Perhaps you should pass on that bit of advice the next time you see him."

"_Professor Snape_!" Hermione rebuked.

"Why yes, I'll have to keep your suggestion in mind. I have some things that I need to see to, so I won't keep you any longer, Professor," Remus said, "Oh, and Severus, Harry's found a way to add a pleasant flavour to his potions. Perhaps you might like to think about doing the same when you next make mine."

"I have found many interesting things to flavour your potions with – unfortunately the Headmaster frowns upon the use of toxins."

OOoOO

Exam time was nearly upon them at Hogwarts. Though the students had the inclination, they unfortunately didn't have the time to enjoy the warm weather outside anymore, and many of them could be seen gathered in the library, or cloistered in their common rooms studying quietly.

Harry had finished his course work a week ago, and had given his students these final two months to revise what they had been taught and have some of his more difficult lessons repeated. Last week, his seventh year combined Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw class had asked him to revise his lecture on defensive potions. The last time he'd given this class, he'd dipped into his own supply of potions ingredients and had avoided having to take any from the Potions storeroom in the dungeons. This time, however, he wasn't as lucky, and didn't have all of the ingredients necessary – which is why he found himself wandering a little aimlessly through the corridors in the dungeons, searching for the elusive storeroom. The last time he'd visited the Potions cupboards was when he was a student, but it had apparently been moved since then, and as Harry didn't have the time to keep looking for it, he would have to ask someone to point him in the right direction. He hoped he'd be able to find a student, because he had a feeling that climbing over barbed wire wearing nothing but a nervous grin would be safer – and ultimately less painful – than knocking on the Potion Master's door for something as mundane as directions.

The dungeons had always seemed colder than any other part of the castle, and he started to regret that he hadn't thought to wear anything warmer than a thin long sleeved v-necked shirt and black trousers. When he was younger, he used to think that the dungeons must have been damp and dark, and had a permanent chill because they were built underground. But now, on his way to the storeroom, he saw that it wasn't damp at all. In fact, there seemed to be more torches burning in this part of the castle than anywhere else, with the exception of the Great Hall. Perhaps the chill was magical; Harry wouldn't have been surprised if Hogwarts' resident curmudgeon had deliberately created a chill in the dungeons to keep people from being down there unless they absolutely had to be. Harry didn't think Snape needed to go to such extreme lengths though – his presence alone was enough to keep people away.

"Harry!" Ginny called from behind him.

For just a moment, Harry considered the possibility of hurrying on his way without stopping to talk to her. His next class was scheduled to begin in about ten minutes. He was already going to be late and he still needed to find the ingredients he was looking for _and_ set everything up in his classroom.

On the other hand, if he _didn't _stop and talk to her, he was sure she would make him regret it. With a small sigh, he turned and waited while she, Draco and Snape caught up to him.

"How are you?" she asked. Her cheerfulness was again slightly forced and Harry nearly groaned out loud. He was grateful that she was making such an effort to move their relationship along, but he wasn't a child and didn't need, or want, her to behave cheerfully for his benefit.

"Er, fine, Ginny, but I have to keep moving, or else I'll be late for class."

"I won't keep you," Ginny said quickly. "Draco told me that you have a free afternoon today, so I wanted to invite you to our rooms for afternoon tea and a chat."

"He told you that, did he?" Harry asked, looking pointedly at Draco.

"Hermione's going to be there, so is Ron and Professor Snape, as well as Draco and I of, course. So, I'll expect you at about three o'clock," Ginny said.

"What? But I – I haven't agreed to anything," Harry protested.

"You _are _free, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but –"

"And you wouldn't consider refusing an invitation from a _friend_, would you, particularly when that _friend_ has missed your company and is really hoping you'll come along, would you?" Ginny pressed him.

"Your wife would have made a fine Slytherin," Snape said quietly to Draco, who grinned.

A frantic flapping of wings disrupted the negotiations, and a large brown barn owl swept over them in a flurry of wings and feathers, pausing only long enough to drop a scroll into Harry's hands before it shot straight back down the corridor and out of the dungeons.

Harry quickly opened the scroll and read it, trying not to let the concern he felt show on his face. It was a short message:

_Help - Ministry Breached_

_Tonks_

"Er, you don't usually get owls down here in the dungeons, do you?" Harry asked as casually as he could.

"No. We do not," Snape said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"What does it say?" Ginny asked anxiously.

"Er, Ginny. Is your father working today?"

"Yes. So are Bill and Charlie. Why?"

"There were some papers I wanted to pick up from the Ministry, but if your dad was there, I was going to ask him if he wouldn't mind doing it for me, that's all."

Ginny weaved a quick silencing spell before leaning forward and pulling Harry down by the front of his shirt, so that she could look him in the eyes. "Harry James Potter, I don't care _how_ many years it's been, I can _still _tell when you're lying to me. If you don't tell me what's going on right now I will hex some of your more sensitive parts off. Do I make myself clear?"

"Tonks sent the note. There's been an attack on the Ministry building and she's calling for help," Harry blurted out, carefully extricating himself from her grasp.

"Oh my God!" she gasped.

"Since your family is in the building, maybe it would be best if you –" Harry began, but he cut himself off when he caught the look on Ginny's face.

"Don't even _think _about finishing that sentence. If you were me, what would _you _do?" she asked him, eyes blazing.

Harry had found himself in a similar position only a few weeks before his final year at Hogwarts came to an end. He had wasted no time in charging over to the Ministry of Magic when he thought Sirius was being held and tortured there. "I'd be over there before anyone could stop me," he admitted.

"Ginny! We were just looking for you," Hermione called out, hurrying down the corridor with Ron in tow.

Ginny ran to meet them, to no doubt inform her brother and sister-in-law of what had just transpired.

"What did the note say?" Draco asked Harry, taking advantage of his wife's absence.

"Here," Harry said, passing it to him.

"Shit," he murmured, passing it on to the professor. The older man frowned as he skimmed his eyes quickly over the note. Pulling his wand out of his sleeve he quietly murmured a spell to clear the parchment of all writing.

"Voldemort," Harry growled.

"Maybe," Snape said cryptically.

"Who on earth else?" Harry argued.

"Not now, gentlemen. We have to decide what we're going to do," Draco said, heading off the argument before it could start.

"We'll need some help of course. What a time for Albus and Minerva to be away from the school," Harry said, thinking aloud."

"You are right. We _will _need help, and it _is _a woefully inconvenient time for them to be absent. However, I do not think we will have the time to organise the rest of the 'old crowd' to lend their assistance," the Potion's Master said, using Albus's euphemism for the Order. "Of all the emergencies that have come to pass, none have ever sent communication by Owl before where it could be so easily intercepted. The matter must have been extremely urgent for them to have committed such a gross breach of protocol."

"I don't think Ginny and Ron should come along, though. They're not going to be thinking too clearly and they might make a mistake that could get themselves, or someone else, hurt," Draco said, looking worriedly at his wife.

"Agreed," Snape nodded.

"And Ron's going to be absolutely furious with Hermione if she went along and left him behind. I know we'll be limiting our numbers, but I'd rather not do that to them," Harry said.

"Our numbers weren't really that high to begin with. In any case, since Albus left both Severus and Hermione in charge, one of them should really stay at the school," Draco noted.

"How are we going to do this?" Harry muttered as Ginny, Hermione and Ron rushed over to join them.

"Where's the message, and do we have a plan?" Hermione asked, all business.

Harry and Draco glanced awkwardly at each other.

"We shall arrange for the house elves to gather the rest of the school's crowd together. One of them can then organise the rest of the crowd," Snape suggested, gesturing toward Draco and Harry. It would be prudent to take some potions to the Ministry with us though," Snape added, looking deep in thought. "And considering the circumstances, we may require the 'above regulation' strength potions, in my potions cabinet."

"While we are organising the house elves, I would ask the three of you to retrieve the potions from my personal store. The password to my rooms is 'vivificus'and you will find my potions in the cabinet in my study. They are all clearly labelled so you should not have any difficult in identifying them. You are capable of using your discretion to select the ones you think we might need."

"Of course," Ginny nodded, dashing off in the direction of the professor's rooms with Ron and Hermione close on her heels.

"We aren't going to have much time to get away," Harry said, silently admiring the way Snape had been able to divert Ginny's Hermione's and Ron's attention from them so quickly and so effectively.

"We have a _little _time. I have cast some rather interesting spells over my potions cabinet, and that will delay them, however, I recommend that we leave – sooner rather than later," Snape replied.

"Right," Harry nodded. "I'll call Dobby."

While Harry explained his instructions to the little house elf, Snape and Draco removed their robes and rummaged through their pockets before shrinking them to a size more easy to hide.

"This will do," Severus said, drawing his wand and murmuring a spell over an empty potions vial. "I have taken the liberty of creating a portkey. The sooner we leave the better."

"It won't take them long to see through that fool's errand you sent them on, and nothing's going to stop them from coming after us after that," Harry said.

"I assure you, they will be most _unable _to follow us," Snape told them, setting the portkey on the ground.

"I don't think I like the sound of that," Draco said, looking suspiciously at the older man.

"Do not concern yourself. They will remain relatively unharmed," Snape assured him.

"I don't like how _that _sounds, either," Draco muttered.

The three men grabbed onto the portkey and disappeared, but not before they heard the sound of a woman's scream from somewhere down in the dungeons.

OOoOO

It's impossible to travel by portkey and not feel like you've just been sucked into a giant hole and spat out the other end. The three men made a less than spectacular landing and Harry found himself in the rather awkward position of having to remove himself from Snape's lap, where he had landed. Of course the older man had to make the make whole situation even more embarrassing by tensing up like a bow at the contact. Harry rolled his eyes. The two may have had their history, but surely the man had dealt with things more disgusting than himself.

They landed in a small park only a few blocks from the Ministry building. It was large and relatively empty given that it was a weekday and most of the children were in school. A few mothers with very young children were seated here and there, and every now and then somebody walked their dog or jogged past them.

"Why did you bring us here? Why not a back street somewhere, closer to the Ministry?" Harry asked, weaving a strong silencing spell around them.

"We need to be able to plan our next movements, and three men would look suspicious talking in a back street," Snape explained, leading them to a nearby bench.

"Yes, well given that we only have a suspicion as to who, or what, attacked the Ministry, I don't think we can make much of a plan. We might have to just charge ahead and wing it most of the way through," Harry said, sitting down and leaning forward on his seat to face the other two.

"I don't think we can wait for everyone to join us. You said yourself that Tonks must have been desperate for help if she had to breach Order protocol to get the note to us, so I think that we should get in and do as much as we can."

"You may have a point, Potter, as much as it pains me to admit it," Severus grimaced.

"I must admit, though, I'm not familiar with the current layout of the Ministry. How is it set out and what sort of security measure have they got?" Harry asked.

"The building was more or less destroyed in the last war, so Fudge had what was left of it destroyed and he had the whole building re-built. The Death Eaters managed to infiltrate the building at least a half-dozen times during the war, so he had more security measures integrated into the new design. The old Ministry building was underground, but he decided that he wanted to have a nice showy building sitting above the ground albeit only visible to a wizard's eyes. He said if it was good enough to have St Mungo's sitting above the ground, then it's good enough for the Ministry too," Draco explained.

"Idiot."

"You won't hear me disagree. You can't apparate onto the premises or disapparate from them, and you can't portkey in or out of the premises either – so there's only one way into the building now, and that's through the front door. The old visitor's entrance was pulled down and there are no side doors or back doors, and the windows are false. There's some sort of air filtration and circulation system built into the building but it can't be used as a point of entry because it's not done with air vents, it's done with holes drilled in and around the building and small pipes, or something like that."

"That sounds like a _death trap_, not a security measure," Harry said in disbelief.

"A lot of people feel the same way, but that's the way Fudge wanted it done…and since when has the man listened to reason?" Draco shrugged. "The front door has a couple of wards built into it that will identify you as soon as you walk through the door. It sends the information to the rooms in the building where they monitor this sort of thing. One of them reads your magical signature and energy and the other one removes all concealment spells and charms that you're wearing when you walk through. You said your concealment spells are different. Would they be affected by this ward?"

"Probably not. The ward would be utilising the standard revealing spells that people use all the time and they can't see through my spells. We're not using concealment spells though, are we?" Harry asked.

"I see no reason to. I recommend using a strong Confundus spell to disable the ward that reads magical signatures," Snape suggested.

"There are also Roving Eyes that move about the building taking everything in and sending the images to whoever's monitoring security. They're not particularly difficult to disable, a standard stunning spell, or slashing hex or even burning charm will do. The trick is to avoid them. You can't hear them coming and they're not very big, so a lot of times, they're right on top of you before you've even realised that they're there. That's it. The rest of the security is just in the layout of the building."

"There should be about a hundred people working today. If they're being held hostage, they'd probably be on the basement level, where the Wizengamot holds court. They're all big enough to hold them. Or, they'd be on the top floor, where Fudge's office is. His office is bigger even than the courtrooms –"

"Big surprise," Harry muttered under his breath.

"– so it would easily hold all of them. The first floor reception level only has small rooms, like Careers Offices and such. The second level has the offices and the cubicles that the Aurors use when they're not in the field, which isn't often. They're hardly big enough to fit three people each, so there really isn't any point checking them," Draco explained.

"However, we must not rule out the possibility that the Ministry employees are being held separately," Snape added.

"True. The only other level after that is the top level and that's Fudge's level," the young blond continued.

"However, since we will not have the time to search every room in the building, we should find the hostages, and then discover from them whether any of them have been taken to a separate room," Severus instructed.

"I agree, considering the number of rooms there are on the first and second levels alone, we could be there for _hours_," Draco nodded.

"Consider also that if they _are _indeed being held captive, it would be foolish not to assume that we will encounter random guard patrols. As time is of the essence, I suggest that we avoid them if we can. It is better to remain undetected and anonymous so that we may move about freely, than risk having our movements hindered by patrol units that have been sent to look for us," Severus added, receiving a nod from Harry and Draco. "Alternatively, we may encounter unbridled chaos inside the building. We may, quite possibly, walk into the middle of a fight that is already in progress. We must be extremely cautious," Severus said, getting up and dusting off his clothes.

"Don't you think that goes without saying?" Harry asked cracking his knuckles.

Severus sneered. "Not in your case, Mr Potter. Kindly curb your appetite for foolish heroics and recklessness. I do not wish to die today."

Harry's eyes flashed. "I'm not an idiot, _Snape_, and I certainly don't need your instruction."

"_Both _of you need to stop it. We don't have time for this," Draco said, leading the way. "Before we go, I always used to let Severus lead when we were working together. If that suits you, Harry, I think we should keep to that arrangement."

"That suits me just fine, since I don't know my way around the place."

"And I think it might be best if I stay between the two of you. If you end up bickering you're likely to get _me _killed and if that happens, I think it goes without saying that I'll be _extremely_ pissed off."

They moved quietly and quickly through the streets toward the Ministry, each of them with one hand on their wand, ready to draw it at a moment's notice. Their caution was unnecessary though, as they encountered no one on the way.

The new Ministry Building looked more like a fortress on first inspection than anything else. A large stone wall, which easily stood about ten feet tall, formed a stern looking perimeter around the property save for a single opening which lead onto the main compound.

The building itself looked very much like an old – but very large – sprawling Muggle-style Victorian town house. Typically ostentatious, just like the Minister. Well groomed flower beds and rose bushes filled the emptiness of the large lawn and a row of short bushes lined the inside of the stone perimeter.

A path led from the opening in the wall to the front door of the Ministry Building. It was a sound attempt to make sure that no one could enter the premises undetected and there was no doubt that it would be effective in keeping out unwanted people – unless of course someone found a way through the stone perimeter, or managed to bypass the security measure concealed in disguise.

Unfortunately, if the Ministry had really been breached, he couldn't risk being seen, even in a disguise. Whoever had infiltrated the building would no doubt have stationed people outside to make sure that they weren't interrupted until they finished what they had come to do, and if they were people standing guard, he, Severus and Draco would be seen if they tried to go over the wall. He swore viciously under his breath.

The Potions Master glared at him and put a finger to his lips. The three of them approached the opening in the wall. Severus took a very quick peek around the corner and held up two fingers. The trio backed away from the opening, regrouping far enough away that they could talk without the risk of being overheard.

"Only two guards?" Harry whispered.

Severus nodded. "One on either side of the front door. However, I was only able to have a very quick glance."

"Do you think we'd be able to just stay at the wall and hex them from around the corner," Harry suggested.

"Too risky. They'd be aiming straight at us but we won't be able to aim if we're just shooting peeks around the corner," Draco disagreed.

Harry and Draco looked expectantly at the Potion Master, who looked to be deep in thought and didn't seem to have heard a word that had been said.

"Severus?"

"Draco, I will need your mirror," the Potions Master finally said.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, looking at the professor like he'd just lost his mind.

"Why would you think _I _have a mirror?" Draco asked defensively.

"Look, we don't have much time. Would you just hand the mirror over?" Harry asked, still confused about why Snape would want a _mirror_, of all things.

Draco sighed and handed over a small compact. "You'll never know when you'll need it," he mumbled, catching Harry's amused look.

Severus silently crept back to the opening in the wall. Carefully crouching down on his hands and knees, he held the mirror out and moved it a various angles so that he could see into the compound while remaining safely hidden.

"I had no idea the Professor was so…flexible," Harry noted, watching with obvious fascination as Severus continued to flex his long limbs into awkward positions in an effort to remain unseen by the guards.

"I don't think this is the right time to be getting those sorts of ideas about the professor," Draco whispered, sending a sly look at Harry.

"I wasn't," Harry said, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. "Those sorts of ideas and Professor Morbid over there don't belong together. I've just never seen anyone so flexible. No, actually, I take that back. There was a guy in one of my classes at university who gave a speech with both of his legs hooked behind his neck. _He's_ the most flexible person I've ever seen."

"Really? Just think of all the possibilities."

"I was…believe me, I was."

A few moments later, Severus crept back to join the others.

"There is a third guard stationed on the roof," Severus told them, handing the mirror back to Draco. "He is well concealed behind the ledge and in a position to be able to attack us should we enter the compound. From his vantage point, there is no doubt that we have already been seen. Therefore, we have no option but to initiate an attack. We have lost our advantage of surprise, so we must try to overwhelm them with raw power instead. One of us should attack the guards who are on the ground, while the other two of us should concentrate our attack on the guard on the roof. He will be harder to hit, as he is well concealed behind the ledge, so we will need to draw him out of position before we can attack him."

"I can help with that," Harry said, rummaging through his pockets and pulling out three Weasley Wizarding Wheezes brand fireworks that he confiscated from one of his students earlier that morning. "If one of these goes off near him, he won't want to stay where he is. We can attack him while he's trying to run away from these things."

"I might add that as we have been seen, it is possible that others have been notified of our presence," Severus warned them.

"So we do what we have to do as fast as we can. The others shouldn't be too long. We should be able to manage on our own until then," Harry said, gripping his wand.

"Agreed," Severus nodded. "Draco and I will attack the guard on the roof while you attack the ones in front of the building."

Harry rushed through the entryway first, hexes blazing and hoping that blind luck would smile on him and his spells would hit at least one of the guards. None of them did though, and he found himself standing completely in the open before two armed wizards who were doing their level best to hex him into next week.

Severus had been right. The guards had been expecting him. As soon as he'd run out from behind the wall, a hex flew straight over his head and another one brushed past his side, nicking him on the way past and opening a shallow gash. There was no pause in the barrage of hexes the guards were throwing at Harry. They seemed to be doing their best not give Harry an opportunity to aim any spells at them. Spells seemed to be raining down on him from all directions and Harry dove to the ground. A loud explosion erupted over the roof, and suddenly flashers and sparklers of every colour seemed to rain down on them. While the two guards were distracted, looking for the source of the explosion, Harry managed to stun them.

The familiar tingle behind him told him that a spell was fast approaching, barely a moment before it hit him. A bludgeoning hex caught him on his left shoulder as he tried to turn around, and an even heavier blow to the middle of his back knocked him forward onto the ground. The attacker had been standing barely a body's length away from Harry, the close range adding force to the spell.

Harry felt like he'd been bludgeoned by a sledge hammer and it was a few moments before he was able to move. With as much speed as he could muster, Harry rolled over onto his back and held his wand in front of him, looking for the person who attacked him. He was surprised to see no one standing over him, only a young man sprawled out on the ground in front of him.

"That's one hell of a drop," he observed, looking from the roof top to the ground and back again. His comment was met with silence. Looking about, he found himself on his own and he began to worry that something had happened to his cohorts. He found them rustling through the bushes by the side of the building.

"The man who attacked you from behind had been hiding in the shrubbery behind you. I did not see him during my preliminary search of the grounds," Severus frowned.

"Well if he was _hidden_ in the bushes, you wouldn't have been _able _to," Harry said.

"There aren't any more. They all would have come out and joined in the fight by now anyway," Draco said, heading back to the bodies of the wizards they had just been fighting with.

"It is imprudent to leave loose ends. If one had been hiding in the vegetation behind Potter, there is no telling how many others may have been similarly concealed," Severus said following Harry and Draco.

While the two former spies hid the bodies in the hedge, Harry untucked his shirt and lifted it up to check the large gash on his side, which had been steadily bleeding since it had opened up.

"I thought that guy hit you in the back," Draco said, dumping the fellow he'd been levitating unceremoniously into the hedge.

"This happened when I ran in. I told you that those guards were ready for us," Harry replied, running two of his fingers along the length of the cut and murmuring a low grade healing spell to seal the wound.

Harry was, without a doubt, a powerful wizard, skilled in many areas of magic, but if Madam Pomfrey had seen his attempt to close a simple gash, she would have been beside herself. It seemed that Harry had trouble tracing the course of the wound, and instead of applying his magic in one smooth motion, from one end of the injury to the other, he applied his healing energy in short spurts. The result of his efforts was that he was left with a long, angry looking scar, which; on closer inspection, looked more like a hodgepodge of short criss-crosses beginning at one end of the scar and ending at the other. What was sure to have sent Madam Pomfrey into apoplexy though, was the fact that Harry's effort wasn't even wholly successful. His scar…_leaked_. Literally. There were sections along the new scar that continued to dribble blood.

Severus and Draco grimaced at his efforts.

"_It'll do_," Harry said defensively, wiping as much of the blood away as he could with his already blood stained shirt. Pulling his shirt back down, he hurried to the front door.

"Wait," Severus commanded, joining him. "Do you not find it strange that nobody has come out to see what all of the commotion was about?"

"I do, but I don't really want to sit and wait for them to come and find me. I'd rather go and find them. At least that way I can catch them off guard, even if just a little," Harry replied.

Severus looked as though he wanted to object but Harry cut him off before he had the chance. "Look, before you suggest that we sit and wait for everyone to arrive, think about this – if they really are preparing to attack us out here, then there's no telling when they're going to charge out. If we stay out here, then they'll gang up on us out here. If they're still gathering behind the door and we go in, they'll gang up on us in there. In the worst case scenario, the same thing will happen to us, just in different places. So we may as well just head in there. Time is everything, and it may _already_ be too late."

"I was only going to suggest that I open the door and that the both of you stand behind me, and hex anything that moves as soon as I push the door open. If we hit any of the Ministry staff, we can always explain ourselves later," Severus said.

"Oh," Harry muttered awkwardly, stepping aside to let Severus stand in front of the door.

"Oh yes, and we should all try to minimise the amount of noise coming from our wands. It would not do to give ourselves away so easily," Severus added. "Ready?"

"Yes," Harry and Draco replied, holding their wands at the ready.

Severus opened the door just a fraction and peered through the tiny gap. Seeing no one, he quickly murmured a Confundus spell and disabled the ward that would identify their magical signatures and announce their entrance into the building. Even though they were in a hurry, they made sure that the room was empty before they entered the building. None of the wizards had any desire to stroll into a room without making sure they knew exactly what to expect.

When they were sure that the room was empty, they crept inside, and Severus quickly disabled the security eyes that roved about the room.

They moved swiftly and silently through the room, stepping around the broken glass and overturned furniture. Peering cautiously about them, they crept through the level, heading for the stairwell. It made more sense to keep hostages together, rather than separate them into different rooms, so the trio didn't waste any time checking any of the rooms on this level, heading instead for the level with the larger rooms.

They froze when they neared a corner and heard voices coming from the other side. Looking about the corridor, Harry saw nothing to hide behind. Seeing no other alternative, he pressed himself up against the wall behind him and pointed his wand at the corner, waiting for the first person to step into range.

He bit back a startled oath when a hand grabbed his arm tightly and pulled him into a room somewhere behind him. Without thinking, yanked his arm free and lunged at the person who had attacked him, knocking them to the ground. He had pinned them down with his hand around their throat and his wand pointed at the spot between their eyes before he even realised that the person he'd just tried to strangle was Severus Snape. For a moment, the Potions Master looked surprised, but now he looked annoyed. Very annoyed.

Harry quickly let go of his throat and took a few steps back.

"Don't _ever _do that again!" Severus hissed, retrieving his wand and picking himself up off the floor.

"I could say the same to you," Harry gasped. He felt as though his heart was beating in his throat, which was where it seemed to have lodged itself when Snape had surprised him earlier.

"Ssh!" Draco hissed, standing behind the door with his wand raised and pointed at it, ready to attack the first person unfortunate enough to walk through it.

The other two wizards silenced themselves and stood, wands at the ready. The sound of footsteps grew louder and whoever was walking the corridor was so close that their conversation filtered clearly through the door.

"…and she didn't like it. She said it was too plain and that it needed a few diamonds set into it. _Diamonds_! Where am I going to get the galleons for that?"

"She's got expensive taste! I'm glad she's _your _girlfriend and not _mine_."

"You don't even _have _a girlfriend."

"And I'm richer for it, too…."

The footsteps disappeared down the corridor, and they crept out of the room, fleeing across the hallway and around the corner. It took only a few moments for Severus and Draco to disable the magical security items behind the door to the stairwell and slip inside.

Pausing only to magically seal the door behind them, they hurried down the steps to the ground floor, where court was held. There was a possibility that the hostages were being held on this level, and if that was the case, they could no longer rely on stealth. They would have to fight their way in, and then quite possibly fight their way out. Severus opened the door – and then quickly shut it.

"How many?" Draco asked.

"Three."

"So they're not on this floor then," Draco murmured.

"There may be more of them in the courtrooms themselves. It is dangerous to make any assumptions at this stage. However, there may be another problem. The Minister has hung portraits along the walls on this floor. I was not aware that they had done that," Severus replied.

"Neither was I. Fudge hates them. He says they chatter too much, though I couldn't hear anything coming from them when you opened the door. We'll need to make sure they stay silent," Draco added.

"I will take care of them,"

"We might not need to. If the Ministry put the paintings up, they'd be on the Ministry's side, right? So they're not going to make a noise when _we_ head in there, are we?" Harry asked.

"I trust nothing. It is safer that way," Severus said flatly, raising his wand.

Draco, you will take care of the security measures and Mr Potter, you will stun the guards. They are not facing us so we will have the advantage of surprise. I suggest you use it."

"Of _course _I'll use it. In case you've forgotten, I _have_ done this sort of thing before," Harry snapped.

"Now isn't the time," Draco whispered harshly. "This would be much easier with more people. The others should have been here by now."

Draco was right. The Order was well trained to be able to be able to lend their assistance, wherever it was needed, at a moment's notice. Harry didn't want to think about what could have happened to prevent the Order from getting to the Ministry.

"We don't have the time to organise anything else. Besides, I'm not leaving until I find what I came for," Harry said determinedly, thinking of the Weasleys who were being held hostage. They had shown him what it felt like to be a part of a family and he wasn't leaving without finding them, even if he had to go through a hundred Death Eaters to get to them.

The Potions Master threw open the door and the three wizards cast their spells almost as one. Two of the guards were stunned before they even had time to react but the third guard had already spun around and had his wand half drawn before Harry sent him to join his friends on the floor.

The first two courtrooms they checked were empty, save for broken and overturned furniture, but the third was strangely bare. All of the furniture had been removed – nothing remained except the bench of the Wizengamot.

The three wizards had taken every care to make as little noise as possible as they moved through the level, but it quickly became obvious that they needn't have bothered. Sounds of raucous laughter and amusement came from the courtroom at the very end of the hallway. Harry had an almost insane urge to thank whoever was making the noise for making their job that much easier.

"Albus Bumblebore," boomed a voice from the room, followed by the sound of a gavel being struck. "I find you _guilty_ of being an interfering, doddering old fool. You are hereby sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment in our Lord's dungeons. And I furthermore suspend all lemon drop privileges forthwith. Take him away!"

More laughter and sounds of people banging on furniture erupted from the room. Having checked the other rooms, the three wizards crept toward the end of the corridor. Taking care to tread carefully around the broken and upturned furniture and ornaments, they moved on silent feet.

Without warning, a sharp pain surged through Harry's forehead and he stumbled sideways, tripping over his own feet and landing heavily against the wall.

"For Merlin's sake! Not now!" he gritted out, clutching his head between his hands. His scar felt like it was on fire and Harry's eyes watered, but a moment later the pain disappeared, just as suddenly as it had arrived.

"What, in the name of Slytherin, are you idiots doing?" a woman's voice yelled out from the room directly across from the last courtroom. A door slammed open and a petite, dark-haired witch stomped out of the room, looking extremely angry. Severus and Draco stunned her before she could realise what was happening.

"Are you fit to proceed?" Severus asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Of _course _I am," the younger wizard replied brusquely, following Severus further down the hallway.

"What's going on out here?" A young man made the mistake of poking his head out of the room and Draco rewarded him with a curse that struck him right between the eyes and sent him flying back in.

Without waiting for Severus or Draco, Harry hurried over to the room at the end of the corridor, where the nosey young man had appeared from, and peeked in. There were only two men left in the room and they had dived for cover behind the Court bench after Draco had rather forcibly sent their friend back inside to join them.

"I'll check the room that witch came from," Draco said Severus as they followed Harry down the corridor.

"How many?" Severus asked Harry quietly when he caught up with him.

"Two," before he stepped into the room, followed closely by Severus who cast a silencing spell over it.

One of the men, who were hiding behind the bench, peeked over the top of it but before he could draw his wand, Harry hit him square on the jaw with a stunning spell, and he fell back onto his friend. Throwing him off, his friend raised the tip of his wand over the top of the bench and blindly threw curses about the room. None of them came close to hitting Harry, but Severus found himself having to dodge a few.

"You didn't really think that would work, did you?" Harry said impatiently, raising his wand and casting a spell so powerful that it blasted apart the Wizengamot's bench.

The young man let out an unexpectedly shrill squeal worthy of Pettigrew, and crawled out from under the pile of wood that used to be a court bench. Holding his hands up in front of him, he side-stepped slowly away from the debris.

"Look! I'm unarmed!" he yelled, looking at Harry and Severus, with wild eyes darting from the two wizards in front of him to the pile of wood that used to be the Wizengamot's bench. He was so busy looking around him that he bumped right into a very irritated looking Draco, who had been standing in the doorway.

"MacCaster, you pathetic little swine," Draco growled.

"Please –

please don't kill me. I'll do anything – tell you anything!" He stuttered, looking first at Draco and then at Harry and Severus.

"So quick to surrender, too. You know, I'd never trust anything coming out of your mouth," Draco hissed, pointing his wand at the pathetic little man at his feet.

"The people in the building," he blurted before Draco could cast a spell. "You're looking for everyone who was in the building when we got here, aren't you? If you let me go I'll tell you how to find them."

"We already know where they are. You're hardly in a position to bargain," Draco replied, holding his wand right in front of MacCaster's face and pointing it at the space between his eyes. The young man swallowed loudly.

"You – you might know where they are, but you don't know how to look for them."

Draco narrowed his eyes and grabbed the grovelling man by the collar, hauling him to his feet. "Explain," he said simply.

"If you guarantee me safe passage out of here, I-I'll tell you everything."

"If you _don't _tell us how to find them, we'll take you upstairs and use you as a shield while we look for them ourselves," Draco threatened, taking his wand away from MacCaster's throat and pressing the tip of it against his crotch instead. MacCaster squealed and tried to back away, but Draco pulled him forward by the collar and jabbed his wand right up against his family jewels. "If you cooperate, you'll leave here with everything in tact. Tell me how I find the Ministry Workers."

"They-they – ah!" he squeaked when Draco jabbed him again.

"Get on with it," Draco growled.

"They're on the third floor," he began, trying to back himself away from Draco's wand, but Draco dragged him forward and poked him rather sharply. "Ah! Ah – but an illusion spell has been cast over the whole third level. When you look up there, all you'll see is an empty floor. Everyone up there will be able to see _you _though, since you're not part of the illusion."

"Has any other level been adjusted that way?"

"No, just that one. I-I swear it."

"How many of you are up there?"

"I don't know, maybe fifteen or so," MacCaster replied, shifting his eyes to the floor.

"Oh, and you were doing so well." Draco jabbed him once more. "Try again."

"Ah, there's probably about _thirty_ up there, maybe a few more."

"Is there anything else we should know?"

"No, that's it. Really," he said, nodding his head vigorously.

"You'd better be right." Draco told him, releasing his grip on his collar. As soon as he was free, MacCaster lunged at Draco, but Draco seemed to have known that this would happen. He ducked the punch and drew his wand.

"Reducio!" he cried.

The young man froze as a bright light surrounded his crotch. "Merlin, no!" he cried, dropping his wand and grabbing his rapidly shrinking genitals with both hands.

"That's for what you did to Ginny. _Never_ touch my wife again," Draco grated out from between clenched teeth.

"Augh! I can make it grow back," MacCaster whimpered, frantically feeling around his crotch.

"You'll have to _find _it first," said Draco darkly, before he finally stunned him and left the room.

"A little unorthodox, perhaps, but the punishment fit the crime," Severus supplied dryly.

"You'll have to explain that to me when we get out of here," Harry said. "But we're lucky that they didn't cast illusion spells on _every _level in this place. We didn't anticipate that. If they _had_, we wouldn't have made it out of here alive," Harry said. The other two men nodded sombrely. None of them had thought to check for such traps and each of them looked none too pleased that they had allowed themselves to be so careless.

It was a much more sombre and wary trio that made their way down the hallway and back to the stairwell.

"Considering who we are, most likely we would have been taken directly to the Dark Lord so that he could kill us himself," Snape explained.

"Ssh." Draco hissed, stopping abruptly. Harry ran straight into the back of him, pitching them both forward slightly.

"What –" Harry began.

"Ssh." Draco shushed him again, staying perfectly still and cocking his ear toward the stairwell door. "Someone's coming." The three men hid quickly in a nearby room.

They hadn't gone far when they heard the stairwell door swing open and several sets of footsteps thundered onto the level. Harry, Severus and Draco hurried into the nearest courtroom and closed the door quietly. Stepping back a few steps, they raised their wands and pointed them at the doorway – just in case.

"Hey! Someone's breached the Ministry! Le Fahey wants you to stop what you're doing. Apparently Hayford and Dabel didn't check in and…" the voice trailed off.

Harry couldn't hear any more footsteps, and when they moved again, their steps were much more cautious and considerably softer.

"They know we're here. Should we wait for them to find us, or surprise them?" Harry whispered.

"It sounded like there were only three or four out there. I say surprise them," Draco said.

"On three, then. One…two…_three_," Harry hissed, throwing open the door and leaping out, stunning the first two people he saw before they'd even turned around. Draco rushed out after Harry and stunned the only Death Eater left standing before them and Severus hexed the Death Eater standing in the door way of the stairwell before he magically closed and locked it.

"Is there another way off this floor?" Harry asked.

"The lift will also take us to the third floor, however, as it will announce our arrival to the thirty or more people who are guarding that level, I believe it will be safer to traverse the stairwell and sneak onto the third floor unannounced," the Potions Master said sarcastically. "We must seal all doors leading into the stairwell behind us as we move through the building, to prevent anybody from following. I would also suggest that we cast a silencing spell over the stairwell so that any noise we might make will not alert anybody else to our location. They may know we are in the building, but as long as they can't pinpoint our exact location, we still hold the element of surprise," Severus instructed.

"What I wouldn't give for an optic cable right now though, so we'd be a little more prepared for what's on the other side of that door," Harry sighed, bracing himself for the fight ahead.

"A what?" Draco asked, looking confused.

"An optic cable. It's a Muggle thing. A bit like extendable ears, but rather than hearing it lets you _see _what's on the other side of a door," Harry explained.

Severus unlocked the door and threw it open, hitting the two Death Eaters who stood behind it. Before they could recover, Harry and Draco stunned them and Severus cast a silencing spell over the stairwell.

"Potter! We should have known. How considerate of you to bring Snape and Malfoy with you. My Lord and Master wants to see you all very much, but I'm willing to be reasonable about this. How about you hand over Snape and Malfoy, and I tell the Dark Lord I didn't see you?" A tall, pale Death Eater shouted from the staircase above him from whence the spells came.

"How about you give us your hostages and we let you walk out of here in one piece?" Harry replied.

"I never knew you had a sense of humour," the Death Eater drawled. "Don't be foolish. What do you expect to be able to do? You're woefully outnumbered. Just hand over the traitors, and I'll let you go."

"How many do you think are up there? I can't see for all the hexes," Harry asked the professor.

"Three, perhaps four," Snape replied, returning the fire and sending spells blindly up into the stairwell.

"Oh man, I feel like I'm a kid all over again and you, Ron and Hermione are shooting at me from the top of the stairs in the castle," Draco grunted, joining Severus and casting spells blindly up into the stairwell, hoping to get lucky and find a target. "You know, it'd be nice if you gave us a hand," he added pointedly to Harry.

"We never pranked you like _that_…wait a minute, speaking of pranks…" Harry dug quickly through his pockets. "Aha!" He cried, triumphantly holding up two packets of stink pellets.

"Potter you have two seconds to assist us or I will…what in _Merlin's name_?" Severus asked, looking oddly at Harry.

"Confiscated them this morning. Some of your students were planning something special for your class, _Professor_," Harry told Snape as he concealed one of the packets in his handkerchief and levitated it through the stairwell door and up into the stairwell itself.

"Shouldn't be long now," Harry muttered, standing by the side of the door frame and keeping an eye on the package.

The sound of muffled shouting filtered down the stairwell.

"What _is _that?"

"Don't touch it, it could be a trap."

"Destroy it, then."

"_You _destroy it."

"Shit…it's coming this way."

"Oh, hell! Get out of the way! Flippendo!"

"Bingo," Harry grinned evilly, rushing into the stairwell.

"You idiot! It was stink gas!"

A thick cloud of green gas enveloped the three Death Eaters who tried desperately to escape the noxious fog which forced its way into their lungs, and brought tears to their eyes.

Harry, Snape and Draco stunned them before they could recover and rushed up the stairs.

"Whew! I don't remember stink pellets ever being _this _strong," Harry said, wincing and breathing shallowly as he stepped over the stunned bodies of the Death Eaters.

"The Weasley twins' brand is more popular than any other brand on the market, largely because they're much more…_potent_…than the others," Draco explained, doing his best to hurry through the thick fog without breathing too deeply.

"Unbelievable to think the Weasley twins actually produced something useful. A rather ingenuous application of advanced potions work…I think," Severus choked out, blinking back the tears stinging his eyes and magically locking the door to the second level.

"If there really are thirty people up on the third level, we're going to be hard pressed to handle them on our own," Harry noted.

"Pragmatism? From you? I never thought I would live to see the day," Snape sneered, moving quickly past the thick noxious fog.

"We will not be able to see any of the guards until the Disillusionment spell is removed. As such, depending on where the guards are stationed. They know we're here, so it would not surprise me if they were all lined up in front of the door with their wands pointed directly at us."

They crept up the stairs two at a time, to the third level and listened carefully for sounds of people behind it, but they heard nothing. It didn't sound as though there were thirty angry Death Eaters on the other side of the door waiting to take them to the Dark Lord in pieces, nor did it sound like any hostages were being held.

As soon as Severus carefully opened the door, Harry and Draco quickly threw up shields to protect them all while Severus removed the Disillusionment spell. Harry was relieved that the spell was created only to alter what an outsider would see if they stepped onto the level. It didn't affect the Death Eaters already on the floor, so they wouldn't notice that it had been removed.

It took only moments for the wizard's spell to work its magic, and when it was done, he slipped inside, motioning for Harry and Draco to follow him. The hallway in front of them was long and empty, save for the broken furniture and ornaments scattered across it. There were a few offices along this corridor, though all of their doors remained closed.

Harry began to wonder if they had been tricked. He found it difficult to believe that the Ministry workers were actually being held on this floor. Granted, they had been lucky to find out about the Disillusionment spell, but there hadn't even been any guards watching the only door that opened out onto the level. Noises of muttered conversations and of heavy footsteps carried over to the three men, but they came from the other side of the floor. No sensible person would guard a floor with hostages like this.

Harry threw Draco a questioning look but Draco only shrugged and followed Severus down the corridor. Each time they turned into another empty corridor, Harry grew a little more certain that they had been set up and that at any moment, they would be ambushed and taken to the Dark Lord in chains.

They had turned down four corridors before they encountered any guards. They ambled slowly down the hallway, with their back to Harry, Severus and Draco.

"Stupefy," Harry and Draco murmured so softly they could barely hear each other. The two guards slumped to the ground and the trio hurried past them.

Two more guards standing outside Fudge's door, but the three wizards disposed of them in the same quick and quiet way they'd disposed of the last two.

They stayed well hidden around the corner, in case anybody decided to investigate the noise, but the door stayed closed.

"If there were supposed to be thirty guards on this level, and we've knocked out four of them, there are still at least twenty-six in that room, holding the hostages," Harry began.

"Well done, Potter, you have mastered basic subtraction," Snape snapped, his brow creased in thought.

"My _point_," Harry said, glaring at Severus, _"_was that it's still odds of at least eight to one, not to mention that there are about a hundred hostages in there who are likely to get hurt if we go in there and pick a fight. I hope one of you has an idea because the only plan I have involves charging in and hoping that we get lucky," Harry finished.

"A Gryffindor's first instinct is always to 'charge ahead'," Severus sneered. "However, your idea may actually have some merit this time," he added.

"Excuse me?" Harry and Draco asked in unison, both of them looking a little surprised.

"You heard me correctly. We cannot start a fight in the office where the hostages are being held, so we must remove the threat from them, or minimise it as much as we can," the Potions Master explained.

"I'm still lost. Can't you speak plainly?" Harry sighed in frustration.

"Very well, for the simple-minded – one of us must draw as many of the guards out of the room as possible. With fewer guards in the room, there is less chance that they will be able to maintain their control over the hostages, and the hostages may be able to assist us to stun the remaining guards," Severus elucidated.

"What about the person who drew the guards out in the first place?" Harry asked.

"I can only suggest that you find a room to barricade yourself in so that you can pick off the guards as they come for you. The rest of us will come to assist as soon as we are in a position to do so," Severus said.

"_Me_? I'm not sure I'm too happy with the way you delegate," Harry muttered at Snape.

"This has nothing to do with delegation. Your Gryffindor foolhardiness and recklessness suits you to this task extremely well. We do not have time for anything fancy. A direct approach must suffice."

"What do you mean _direct_? You don't expect me to just knock on the door and walk right in, do you?"

"I do not expect you to _knock_."

Harry looked at his former professor in astonishment. "You're insane! You're going to get me killed! Do you have any idea what they're all going to do when they see me?"

"Of all the things that are likely to get you killed, I do not think this is at the top of the list."

Harry muttered a few unrepeatable things as he moved to the door. A quick check revealed that there were no locking spells, and Harry took a deep breath before he threw open the door and stepped inside.

Several people jumped in surprise and for a moment, nobody did anything but look at Harry with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

As soon as he was sure everyone had seen him, he turned on his heels and ran out of the room, dodging a barrage of hexes.

Harry wasn't sure how many people were following him, but the thundering of the footsteps behind him and the number of spells he could hear hitting the walls around him told him that there were quite a few. Twisting and weaving down the hall, he rounded the corner and pulled open the first door he could find. He raced in and slammed it shut behind him, quickly casting a powerful locking spell and strengthening charm over it. The door rattled on its hinges as one spell after another struck, but it held together. Harry knew that no charm was impenetrable, but it would delay them, which would give Harry time to make preparations.

Harry scanned the room. It looked like almost every other room in the building. Broken furniture and ornamental decorations were scattered from one end of the room to the other, and books and scrolls were strewn over every surface. A large overturned table in the centre of the room caught Harry's eye. It had been tossed aside, but it looked largely undamaged so he dragged it to the other side of the room and bunkered down behind it, wedging himself into a corner against a bookshelf and a wall.

As suddenly as it had started, the sound of spells being thrown at the door stopped. But it was soon replaced by the intermittent thuds and muffled grunts of someone, or some people, trying to charge it down. Harry shook his head in disbelief. The fact that the door had held up even under their strongest spells didn't seem to put them off.

Putting his wand to the side, Harry pulled out all of the knives he was carrying and laid them out in front of him. He'd made it a habit to conceal any number of weapons about his body during the last war and when the war had ended, it had taken him quite some time to break the habit. Now that Voldemort was back, he found himself adopting many of his old habits, like wearing weapons about him, even if he was only teaching at the school.

If they carried on the way they were, it would be some time before they managed to break the door down, but when it _did_ come down, he would find himself trapped in a room with at least a dozen people who would be doing everything they could to hex him into next week and he would need all of his weapons close at hand.

And then there was silence. The guards outside had stopped trying to charge the door down, but Harry was more worried by the fact that he couldn't hear any voices coming from outside. He grabbed his wand and one of his knives and levelled them both at the door while he scanned the room again, making sure that there really was only one way in and out. There were no windows, and aside from a small bare section of one of the walls where the door was, every other part of the walls in the room was lined with bookshelves.

The bookshelves! Harry groaned. _He _of all people should have realised that some buildings had secret passages built into them. Hogwarts had plenty of them and he'd spent much of his time as a student exploring them with Ron and Hermione. How could he have been so stupid? Snape was right all those years ago when he had been yelling at him as a student. His foolishness _was _going to get him killed. It was too late to try and check for any passages leading into the room. There was no telling where – or when – anybody was going to come in. At least if he stayed where he was, with his back to the wall, nobody could sneak up behind him.

So he waited, watching and listening for any signs of the guards.

A loud CRACK shattered the silence and startled Harry so much that he nearly dropped his wand. The blade of an axe lay wedged in the door, breaking apart the wood and letting thin ribbons of light penetrate the room. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The door burst apart as a large, beefy Death Eater broke through, kicking down what remained of the door and holding his axe in front of him. He pointed his axe at Harry and gave an evil grin.

At least ten more people stood behind the first one, some Harry recognised as Death Eaters, and some he didn't. He swallowed – hard. Raising himself up slightly, he quickly stunned the Death Eater who was holding the axe before he threw his knife at the one behind him. The first Death Eater fell forward, wedging his axe into the floor with a thud, but Harry's knife lodged itself into the throat of the second Death Eater, throwing him back into the group of people behind him who moved aside and let him fall to the ground.

They stared at their dying comrade in stunned silence and Harry took advantage of their distraction and stunned another two from their group – a young blonde woman who Harry recognised from his days as a student, and a tall dark man, who Harry recognised as one of Voldemort's Death Eaters from the last war.

The rest of the Death Eaters hurried out of the room, stumbling over each other in their haste, but moments later an older looking wizard peeked his head around the corner, and Harry knocked him out with a spell right between his eyes. If they had thought to simply waltz into the room and hex Harry into oblivion, they were quickly finding out that it wasn't going to be that easy to capture the young wizard.

And if Harry thought that he could buy himself some time until help arrived by scaring them into attacking more slowly, then he was also sorely mistaken. Moments later, they all charged into the room, throwing all manner of hexes and curses in Harry's direction.

Harry ducked back behind the table, which burst apart under the force of the spells being thrown at it. He hadn't expected them to launch such a brazen attack. A slashing hex caught Harry under the eye and a scalding spell shot its way up his right leg, pushing him back against the book shelf and knocking the wand out of his hand. Clever tricks and fancy strategy couldn't help him, and there was no point conserving his strength if he was going to die before he had the chance to use it. He quickly gathered his energy together and cast it across the room.

"STUPEFY!" he cried.

For a moment, the whole room seemed to shake, and then, one by one, the remaining Death Eaters dropped to the ground. Harry pulled himself up and sat against the wall, sweating from the effort of using that much energy at once.

"The floor began to tremble some moments ago. I assume that you are responsible for that?" The professor asked, with typical Snape-ish bluntness.

Harry jumped, startled by the Potion Master's sudden appearance in the doorway. "Yeah," he gasped, not having the energy to offer any lengthy explanations – or even any brief ones.

Kneeling next to the body of the Death Eater who had been unfortunate enough to catch Harry's knife in his throat, he jerked the weapon free and waved a cleaning spell over it. "Draco and the hostages are standing guard at the stairwell door, in case anybody should attempt to come through. However, the door will not remain permanently locked. Are you fit to continue?"

"He should be alright. All the ministry workers are with him, aren't they?" Harry asked, his breath still hitching a little.

"Yes, however, their wands were destroyed when they were taken hostage. Some of them were lucky enough to be able to pick up the wands of their captors though," Severus replied, crossing the room and holding Harry's knife out to him.

Harry looked at it suspiciously for a moment before he accepted it, and tucked it underneath his shirt.

"Well?" Severus asked, looking carefully at Harry.

"What?" Harry asked. He was tempted to give in to sarcasm and ask Snape to speak in whole sentences and explain, but the look he was given stayed his razor sharp tongue. On the one hand, Snape had sounded typically cynical and impatient, but the look he levelled at him was anything _but_ malicious. If Harry didn't know better, he could have sworn that Snape looked…_concerned_. He didn't mind catching Severus' eyes, because for the first time in a long time, he felt like Severus was seeing him as an equal, rather than as an obnoxious child.

"Er, yes," Harry said, remembering where he was. "Though I notice that I'm not the only one looking a little worse for wear." He added gesturing to the scratches and bruises that Severus had already collected from their trip into the building, and tucking the rest of his weapons back into his clothing.

"They are of no concern," the Potions Master harrumphed before spinning on his heel and striding out of the room, with Harry following behind him a little unsteadily

The Ministry workers looked tired and troubled and their injuries showed that they hadn't come out of the ordeal unscathed.

"You all right, Harry?" Arthur Weasley asked, stepping aside for them.

"Just fine. You, Bill and Charlie doing okay?" he asked, shaking his hand warmly.

"We're all fine," Arthur replied, letting go of Harry's hand and giving his shoulder a small squeeze. "We'll talk later."

Harry nodded and hurried to meet Draco and Snape who were waiting for him by the stairwell door.

"Doesn't Fudge's office have a floo network? That would be a much easier way to get everyone out of here than trying to walk them all out the front door," Harry said, looking puzzled.

"They destroyed his fireplace," Draco explained, rubbing absently at a bruise that was already beginning to come up on his cheek.

"Oh…bugger," Harry muttered, raising his wand.

Draco looked briefly at Harry and Snape, who both stood behind him with their wands raised and pointed at the door, before he magically opened the door. Someone lurched through it from the other side, grabbing onto the door to straighten themselves up. His eyes took on a slightly wild look when he saw whose feet he had nearly trampled on, but before he could raise his wand, Draco slammed the door shut on him.

"It's Potter! Potter's up here, and so are Snape and Malfoy!" the fellow on the other side of the door yelled. Footsteps thundered up the stairwell, followed moments later by the sound of spells hitting the door.

Harry dropped to the ground and lay on his stomach, holding his wand out in front of him. "Open the door!" he cried.

He threw the door open and he and Severus stepped aside. The intruders tried to barge in; their wands raised high expecting to come face to face with their opponents. By the time they caught sight of it was too late for them. A moment later, they fell under his stunning spells. Severus waited a few moments before he peered into the stairwell, checking that it was safe.

They moved as quickly as they could down the stairs. As they passed the second level landing, three Death Eaters stepped into the stairwell through the first and ground floor doors but they fell before they could even look up at the trio.

Barely pausing to catch their breath, the three wizards continued down the staircase with the hostages close on their heels, replacing the locking charms they had cast over each of the stairwell doors as they passed them until they reached the entrance level.

Clever strategies might have guided them on their way to reach the hostages, but now was not the time for subtlety. The more time they spent in this building, the more chance there was that the remaining intruders would find them and hex them while most of them were wandless and unable to counter their spells. Throwing open the door, Harry, Snape and Draco rushed ahead, casting hexes and curses in front of them in the hopes of stunning anybody who happened to be behind the door. Two Death Eaters fell under the barrage of spells, but the three wizards barely paused to register this. They moved quickly through the hallway, wands held high and ready to hex anyone who got in their way.

When they reached the building entrance, Severus and Draco stepped outside, checking to see if it was safe to take the Ministry workers outside.

Moments later, Severus returned. "It is safe. There is nobody in the yard, nor is anybody in the street outside. Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter and I will ensure you are not attacked from behind while you organise portkeys for yourselves."

"Since most of those intruders don't have wands any more, we should be able to secure the building and round up whoever's still wandering around in here. I think we've got enough wands among us," said Susan Bones. She had succeeded her aunt for the position of Head of the Department of Law Enforcement.

"I must say, though, that these are not _our _wands, so they will be difficult to control and largely ineffective if they are not suited to our particular magical energy. We should take steps to bring others in to secure the premises," Kingsley Shacklebolt offered.

Kingsley had been one of Harry's instructors during those final years before the end of the last war. As an Auror, he gave Harry extensive training in magical fighting techniques, and as a scholar, he was also able to give Harry an extensive education in the fine art of potion making, which was something he had never appreciated in school.

"Your plan is the best one. We will not waste any more time," Kingsley told Severus, heading toward the door.

"Come and see me later," he said quietly to Harry as he passed him by. This small exchange did not escape Severus's notice and he looked suspiciously at the two men.

The Ministry workers carried and helped their unconscious and injured colleagues to the port key point on the street outside of the premises while Harry, Draco and Severus stood in the doorway, putting themselves between them and any more attacks that might come from the intruders who were still in the building.

"What would Death Eaters want in this place?" Harry asked, with his eyes and his wand pointed at the doorway into the foyer, just as Draco's and Snape's were.

"I could not guess," Severus replied.

"Arthur said that they were talking about records and files that were supposed to be kept here," Draco supplied.

"I did not hear him say that," Severus said, sounding a little confused.

"It was just after we got the hostages out of the room. You'd gone to find Harry."

The discussion had gone no further, as a fiery hex flew from somewhere near the foyer entry and destroyed what was left of an already broken chair. Another sizzling curse flew into the room and forced the front door shut, locking Harry, Severus and Draco inside. They spread out, slowly closing in on the doorway from all sides.

"Why don't you come out where we can see you?" Harry asked, still advancing. Picking up a large plank of wood, which looked very much like the seat of a chair, he pointed his wand and cast a spell with just enough power behind it to send it flying toward the doorway. When it passed through the doorway, Harry sent a stronger spell after it, which smashed the wood to pieces and sent large splinters flying out in every direction.

A single figure ran out from behind the doorway and dove for cover behind what was left of the receptionist's desk.

"Reducto!" Draco cried, decimating the table and exposing the witch who had hidden behind it. She was a familiar figure, though she had aged since Harry had last seen her.

The three wizards levelled their wands at her.

"Well, well…if it isn't little Harry Potter all grown up," the assailant drawled.

"Bellatrix," Harry growled fiercely.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I have no ownership over the original idea/ concept of Harry Potter and/ or its characters. They belong to the talented Ms Rowling.

Thank you to everyone for reading the fic and a big thank you to everyone who has left a review. Your gesture and your encouragement are always much appreciated.

And of course a very special thank you to my Beta/ Editor-in-Chief/Compadre, **Sepia**, for her tireless efforts and her great ideas.

CHAPTER 17 

Harry's knuckles turned white from gripping his wand so fiercely.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Bellatrix sneered at Harry.

An icy fury coursed through his veins. Any pain he felt was now forgotten as his power gathered and raged inside of him, testing his control, desperate to break free.

"Don't tell me you're _still _upset about me killing your dear old godfather," she simpered maliciously. "Aww, you _are_!" she cried.

Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously—but if Bellatrix saw the silent warning, she gave no indication of it.

"Yes, I killed your godfather. You killed my husband. I'd say that makes us even, wouldn't you?"

"You're not fit to talk about Sirius, let alone try to compare him with that piece of rot you called a husband," Harry said coldly, keeping his wand pointed at her.

It was true. He _had_ killed her husband, but it wasn't an act of revenge. During the last war, one of his own informants had set him up to be ambushed by a group of Death Eaters. He had gone to the pre-arranged meeting place, but instead of finding his asset, he had come face to face with Malfoy Senior, Rodolphus Lestrange, and a whole platoon of Death Eaters.

Having no other option he ran, and brought the walls of the buildings on either side of the alley down on the Death Eaters behind him, burying them under tonnes of rubble. Whispers from the underground had confirmed that most of them, including Lestrange, had died – but some of them had defied all odds and had survived that ordeal, including Malfoy senior.

Hearing footsteps in the hallway, Bellatrix laughed viciously, looking for all the world as though _she_ were control of the situation.

"Now this evens things up a little," the witch said smugly. "Three wizards against one little witch isn't very fair, now is it? Years ago you started a duel with me, Potter. Do you think you're man enough to finish it now?"

"I'll be fine here," Harry threw over his shoulder to his companions. "You two handle the others."

Severus nodded, rushing out to meet the intruders with Draco close on his heels.

The witch threw a hex at Draco and Severus as they rushed away, but the two wizards already had already anticipated her actions and her spells were deflected harmlessly away.

"How very predictable of you," Snape said condescendingly. "Do not linger," he told Harry. "We do not have time to…_play_."

Harry nodded at Snape who had already left.

"Did you know that the Dark Lord himself taught me how to duel," Bellatrix said, stroking her wand gently, as one might stroke a cat.

"Do you mean _Voldemort_?" Harry asked, taking some small pleasure in the way she winced at the mention of his name. "I've _survived _duels with _Voldemort_, so I wouldn't place too much faith in his teaching. I don't normally pick fights with people, but for _you_, I'll make an exception," he said, sending a flurry of fiery spells at Bellatrix.

She had managed to deflect the first few, but a sharp shriek confirmed that Harry had managed to hit her; a sharp gash appearing across her cheek. Harry advanced on her, his eyes blazing.

"You're a pathetic fool! My Lord gave you some small measure of power when you were an infant, but you waste his gift. Power is there to be used. With it, you can take what you want. You have the potential, but you refuse to realise it. You are weak, and the weak always die, just like your mother and father – and your godfather –"

"SHUT UP!" Harry cried angrily, casting a spell so strong that it shattered her shield and bludgeoned the bones in her wand hand. She cried out, clutching at her useless hand while her wand skittered across the ground and rolled away. Without giving her an opportunity to recover, Harry hit her with a spell so powerful that it literally knocked her off her feet, throwing her back across the room – where she landed heavily on a pile of broken furniture with a strangled gasp.

With his wand trained on her, he slowly inched closer to her, but he needn't have been so cautious. Bellatrix had fallen back onto a large pointed spear of wood and had quite literally impaled herself. She was clearly dead, her features permanently fixed into an expression of surprise – much the same way Harry remembered Sirius had looked as he fell through the veil to his death.

Severus and Draco had stunned the two intruders in the hallway who had managed to overcome the locking spell on the door – two young men, who couldn't have been more than twenty years old.

The two wizards quickly replaced the locking spell and headed back to the foyer. The fight was already over by the time they arrived and they could see quite clearly that Bellatrix had been skewered by a large piece of wood. Harry stood before her, staring at the body.

"Harry!" Draco yelled, following Severus to the front door, but Harry didn't move.

"Harry!" Draco yelled again, noticing. "We have to go!" Harry still didn't move. He couldn't take his eyes off the lifeless body in front of him.

"We do not have time for this," the Potions Master muttered. "Potter! Move! Now!" he commanded, in a tone of voice that reminded Harry so much of his days as a student that for a moment he felt like he was back in the Potions Classroom. Without a second thought, he followed the command and the three wizards left the building, pausing only to cast a strong locking charm on the front door.

ooOOoo

Arthur, Bill and Charlie rushed over to meet them, effectively stopping the three wizards from going anywhere.

"Are you all right? Why did you need to go back in?" Arthur asked, looking critically at Draco's and Harry's injuries. He tactfully refrained from giving the same attention to Severus whose expression was already as dark as a thundercloud. No good could come from angering the Potions Master further.

"We're fine. Bellatrix and a few of her friends tried to stop us from leaving, but we got out," Draco said, glancing quickly at Harry, "and we've sealed the building off to keep them all in there. Since Fudge's floo is broken, and no one can apparate or portkey into or out of the building, they won't be able to get out until your Aurors let them out."

"I see," Arthur said, thoughtfully.

"This is out of character for…our enemy," Severus said quietly, changing the subject. He glanced quickly about him before he continued. "If he were to organise an attack to the Ministry, his purpose would be to completely take it over. He would not have taken hostages; rather, he would have killed all who were in the building, starting with the current Minister. He would also have sent more than thirty…individuals…to breach the building. And, depending on how important the Ministry was to him, he might even have led the attack himself. What happened here today makes no sense."

"Apparently, they were looking for documents. Records. We heard some of them talking. They took some things from the Department of Mysteries, and some old court records. Oh, and they also took some files about _you_, Harry."

"Why has the Ministry got records on me?" Harry asked.

"They have records on _everyone_," Arthur explained. "Basic information like your place and date of birth, place of schooling, occupation, magical signature. Also, whether or not you've broken any muggle or wizarding laws. In your case, they haven't gone into anything more specific than that."

"Why on earth would…_he…_want that sort of information?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. There isn't much in there that they couldn't learn from some of the published materials about you," Bill said thoughtfully.

"What have they taken from the Department of Mysteries?" Severus asked.

"I really don't know. I only heard them say _'It was all there, just like he said it would be,'_" Charlie replied.

"_He_ need not have gone to such lengths as they did today to acquire information from the Ministry," Severus said. "He would have spies inside the Ministry who would be able to obtain whatever he needed."

"You're right," Draco nodded. "They wouldn't even need to work there. My father had access to a lot of the Ministry's secrets and all he needed to do was wave his money and his patronage under Fudge's nose."

"He has always taken what he wants through guile and cunning. He does not stage a show of force – like the one we saw today – unless it will serve a purpose," Severus thought aloud.

They were interrupted by the sound of loud protests. Tonks and three other wizards lay in a small tangled heap on the ground.

"I'm sorry," she cried, trying to untangle herself under the weight of the heavy glares she was receiving from the others.

"You fellows really helped us out of a tight spot. Thank you seems so inadequate, but I guess it'll have to do," she said, once she'd freed herself and joined the others.

"Er, no worries," Harry said, unsure of the appropriate thing to say in a situation such as this. "But if you hadn't got that message to us, we wouldn't have known anything was wrong."

Tonks looked bemusedly at Arthur, Bill and Charlie, who all looked back at her, equally confused.

"_We _didn't get a message out to you," Tonks said. "But I was on the second floor when it happened. Someone else might have got one out to you."

This time, Harry, Severus and Draco looked confused.

"An owl brought us a note saying that the Ministry had been breached and that you needed help. It was signed 'Tonks'," Draco said slowly.

"That note wasn't sent from me," Tonks said looking concerned.

"If you didn't send it, then who _did?_" Harry asked, utterly confused.

'They're here!" one young witch cried, pointing at a group of witches and wizards in Auror robes hurrying up the path to the building.

"I would hardly say that we are all the Aurors who weren't in the Ministry at the time of attack," Emmaline Vance explained when she reached the small group. "But we have our own methods of contacting each other. The rest should be here very soon. From what I understand there are approximately thirty armed intruders in the building, is that right?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded. "Though, not all of them are armed anymore."

"Enough of us will be arriving to take care of them. The three of you can go and get those injuries looked at, we'll be all right from here," the Auror suggested.

"Very well. We have some matters to attend to ourselves," Severus said, following Harry who had already rushed off.

"We must talk, but we cannot do that here. Apparate to the street we arrived at when we portkeyed out of the school this morning," Severus said quietly as they headed out of the yard.

ooOoo

"That house elf, Dobby. He is free, is he not? Would you say that he can be trusted to follow your instructions?" Severus asked the other two wizards after they had safely apparated to their meeting place.

"Of course," Harry said without any hesitation. "His loyalty is unquestionable."

"I only ask because it is strange that the rest of the Order did not come to our aid when you gave him specific instructions to find them and send them to us," Severus said, narrowing his eyes in thought.

"He's absolutely loyal to Albus and his cause. If he didn't carry out those instructions it's because he _couldn't_," Harry said firmly. "But that raises a lot of unpleasant possibilities relating to _why _he couldn't."

"I shall question the house elf when we return to the school –" Severus began.

"_I'll_ ask him. _You'll _end up making him beat himself in a corner somewhere and then he'll _never _tell us anything," Harry interrupted.

Severus glowered at Harry, opening his mouth to speak.

"Well, Dobby _is _quite fond of you, so maybe you _should _be the one to talk to him," Draco said quickly before an argument could erupt.

"Perhaps Dobby's disappearance is linked, in some way, to the false note," Severus thought aloud. "Our best course of action at this stage would be to return to the school. We can discuss things more freely there. Before we do that, however, we should have our injuries seen to – and _you _should find another shirt to wear," Severus said, looking critically at the bloodstains on Harry's shirt. "We do not want people who are not affiliated with the Order to leap to any conclusions about our activities based on our…appearances. There is a healer who sees to Draco and me. He will see to you too. He presents himself to the world as the owner of a small potions shoppe in Knockturn Alley. Do you know of it?" Severus asked Harry.

"No, I don't, but I'll find it," Harry said.

"His store is next to an old book store that sells rare and hard to find books. Perhaps you are more familiar with that shop?" Severus said in that tone of insufferable smugness that Harry was so accustomed to hearing from him.

Draco looked sharply at the professor.

"I'm not a hopeless case, Snape, I can find my way around," Harry said, rolling his eyes. He wasn't about to admit to Snape that he knew that part of Knockturn Alley he had just described quite well. The book store Snape had referred to was in fact Josh's store. Josh had often told him that the wizard who owned the Potions store next door was a crotchety old wizard who would lace whatever potion he sold you with poison if he didn't so much as like the look of you. Harry started to have serious doubts about his capabilities as a medi-wizard.

"There is a hidden entrance in the alleyway next to the shop –" Severus began.

"I'll meet you there," Harry said, apparating away before Severus could say anything else. He wasn't in the mood to tolerate the Potions Master's cynicism.

"I don't think he understood," Draco said mischievously.

"I beg your pardon," Severus drawled.

"I think he missed your point," Draco replied. "He thought you were trying to imply that he couldn't navigate his way out of a wet paper bag, let alone Knockturn Alley. I'm not convinced that's what you were doing."

"Potter's mood swings do not concern me," Severus growled. "Now if you are ready, we –"

"That book store wouldn't happen to be the one that Harry's friend owns, would it? That Josh chap?" Draco asked, looking suspiciously at his old friend.

Severus said nothing, but made a show of putting his wand away and dusting off his clothes.

"How interesting."

"I have no control over who owns that particular book store, nor its location. You are being ridiculous," Severus said brusquely.

Draco grabbed the older man's arm before he could apparate away. "Not at all, I'm just very interested in what I'm seeing."

Severus narrowed his eyes dangerously at Draco, who released his grip on the older man's arm before it was removed _for _him – painfully. Without a word, the older man apparated away. Draco shook his head and apparated after him.

ooOoo

Ivan, the Healer, was a large, heavy set fellow with small beady eyes and a nose that looked like it had been broken several times and had never healed properly. His head had been waxed clean of any hair and a picture of a snake had been tattooed onto his scalp. Harry could see why people did their best to stay on his good side.

With a no-nonsense efficiency, he literally dragged them into the back room of his shop.

"Wait here," he commanded of the three wizards in a strangely guttural accent that Harry couldn't quite place.

"He's going to empty his shop. He can't be caught with _us _in the back of his shop, for obvious reasons," Draco explained.

"Won't it look a little odd if he just empties his shop in the middle of the day?" Harry asked doubtfully, looking about the room. It looked like a small muggle kitchen from colonial times. He took a seat at the wooden table that sat in the middle of the room. In a corner, a wrought iron stove sat making the occasional rattle, perhaps so that nobody forgot that it was there. Pots and pans and various utensils were lined up neatly on tiny hooks and a large old fashioned portable washtub-come-washbasin was leaned up against the back wall. The room had an ominous chill about it, much the same way the Hogwarts dungeon seemed to.

"Ivan's a bit…eccentric and well known for it. No one's going to think there's anything odd about him shutting the shop in the middle of the day," Draco assured Harry.

"Are you sure he can be trusted?" Harry asked, looking dubiously in the direction of the front of the shop where Ivan was busy pushing loudly protesting customers toward the front door.

"Yes. He has as much reason to despise the Dark Lord as we do. His wife and children were executed by Death Eaters. The Dark Lord kept him alive and took him into his service as one of many healers for his servants and associates. We discovered him during our time with the Death Eaters. He needed very little persuasion to assist us to pass information to Albus about the Dark Lord's activities and plans. He can be trusted," Severus explained flatly.

"… Wife _and _children?" Harry asked, his voice extremely subdued.

Severus looked at the young wizard for a few moments before he replied. "He had a wife and two daughters. Lucius Malfoy made Ivan watch while he used the killing curse to kill them. He threatened to kill the rest of his extended family and his friends as well if he did not co-operate with them."

Harry heard a low growl and was surprised to find that it didn't come from him. It came from Draco, who looked at least as furious as he felt.

"You are not your father. Calm yourself, Ivan is returning," Severus said quietly to Draco. "And Potter, you should be aware that Ivan demands absolute honesty from each of his patients. Do not hide your scars, any of them. He will know. He reads people extremely well," Severus said a little more loudly for Harry's benefit.

"Hang on, how do you know about my-" Harry began.

"I told him about them," Draco whispered quickly as Ivan entered the room.

"I will not ask what you have been doing. I know who you are, but I _do not _know who you are, understand?" Ivan asked Harry, shutting the door behind him.

"Yes," Harry nodded. Although he was somewhat amused by the cloak-and-dagger approach, he was not at all disturbed by the abruptness of the introduction. Having his movements publicised for all and sundry to read about would only hinder the work he was doing for the Order. Ivan had just assured him that he would guarantee his secrecy – as far as he was able to – and that was all Harry could ask for.

The healer moved quickly to the cupboard at the back of the room and removed a large black bag from it.

"Bring the washbasin to the table," he commanded, nodding at Severus who, to Harry's surprise, followed the instruction without question. He found himself revising his opinion of the eccentric healer. Anyone who could have Snape follow orders – without receiving a mouthful of attitude from said person – was a man to be respected.

Ivan emptied his bag onto the table, neatly arranging an assortment of instruments and potions. "You will be first," he said, grabbing Harry's shirt and undoing the buttons.

"I can do it myself," Harry said quickly, trying to yank his shirt out of Ivan's grasp. Ivan simply slapped his hands away and continued undoing the buttons.

"I see. I thought it might be something like this," was all he said when he pushed Harry's shirt off his shoulders, exposing all of the scars Harry bore on his chest and arms. Harry looked away. He could just imagine Snape's delight at the sight of them, and he could practically _feel_ his smugness. It must have been gratifying for him to imagine how he had earned them. A more skilled wizard wouldn't have allowed himself to become like this.

Had he not looked away, he would have seen that there was no smirk on the Potion Master's face. It remained impassive, save for the intermittent clenching and unclenching of his jaw.

"You understand the situation very well. You may come to me again in the future. I will see to you," the healer nodded, laying Harry's shirt across the back of a chair and grabbing his wand.

"I beg your pardon?" Harry asked, confused.

"You do not understand," the healer confirmed with an impatient sigh. "Very well. The people I am…retained by are not of…good repute. As such, I am tainted by association. I am required to set up my shop down here so that I can meet with my affiliates and conduct business with them. People do not come to me unless their choices are…limited. People who come to see me have secrets to keep and have things that they hide from others. As a token of appreciation of the risk I take for my clientele, I ask that they take the risk of keeping no secrets from me. Of hiding nothing from me. It is difficult for people to expose themselves to such a degree, just as I expose myself to such a degree when I treat people such as yourselves."

"Now I understand, thank you," Harry said, beginning to understand that as much as Ivan was eccentric, he was also ruthlessly practical. His crotchety nature, his peculiar need for people to reveal things about themselves to him that they weren't ready to reveal to others were all part of a survival instinct that had kept him alive, in the face of the risks he'd taken for Snape and Draco, for many years.

"Yes, yes. I cannot do very much about the bruising and swelling. A salve will help the healing process, but it will heal soon enough if left alone," he said, waving his wand over Harry's scrapes and contusions. Unlike Poppy, who would use a gentle hand when healing her patients, Ivan would roughly poke and prod his patients and the whole experience gave Harry a new found appreciation for the motherly medi-witch.

"Who did _this_?" he asked, coming to the large gash that Harry had attempted to heal himself.

"_I _closed the wound –" Harry explained.

"I think _not_. Some of it is still open."

"It'll do," Harry said, defensively.

"You are not a healer. You do not understand. It is an _art_. You see what I have done here, and here," he said, poking at two cuts that he had closed for Harry. "I follow the line of the wound and I close it in _one _motion. There will be minimal scarring. _This_, is no good," he said, murmuring a spell which reopened the wound so that he could close it more neatly, earning a pained grimace from Harry.

"Had the same attention been given to some of your older wounds, they would have left less prominent scars. I could have assisted you in this regard," Ivan added, peering professionally at some of Harry's more glaring scars.

"I'll remember that for next time," Harry grunted, rubbing his newly closed wounds.

"Very good. Now, you may remove your pants," Ivan instructed.

"_What?_" Harry asked, quickly putting his hands over the button on his trousers so Ivan couldn't remove them himself.

Ivan remained stone-faced. "You have nothing I have not seen many times before. Kindly remove your pants."

"I don't have any other injuries. They were all aiming a bit higher than my trouser line," Harry said, still holding desperately onto his trousers.

"You are sure?" Ivan asked, narrowing his impossibly tiny eyes even further.

"Yes. Very sure," Harry said quickly.

Ivan appraised him for a few moments. "Very well. In the cupboard behind you, you will find shirts. This one is presently not fit to be worn," he said, gesturing at Harry's blood stained shirt.

"Thank you," Harry said, getting up and hurrying away.

"I will see _you _next," he said, pointing to Draco.

There must have been at least twenty shirts, of various sizes and colours, hanging neatly in the wardrobe. He chose the first one that looked like it fit and threw it on.

"Look, I'm keeping my pants on too. Every time we come in you try to get our kit off," Draco said, leaping out of his seat once Ivan had finished with his ministrations and retreating to the relative safety of the back of the room, where Harry stood, leaning against the apothecary's small wardrobe.

"How are you doing?" Draco asked quietly.

"Sorry?" Harry asked, watching with some amusement as the Potions Master protested to being undressed like a child. "A little sore, but that's a given, all things considered, right?"

"That's not what I meant. I know that Lestrange killed your godfather," Draco said carefully.

"Fine. I'm doing fine," Harry said automatically. Draco stared at him, looking completely unconvinced.

_Empty_. That's how he felt. He might have killed Lestrange, but it wouldn't bring Sirius back, and that left him feeling more empty than before. If things had been different, he _could _have felt sorry for her for the way she'd chosen to live, and the way she'd died, but thinking that way made him feel guilty, as if he were being disloyal to his godfather.

Harry shook his head to stop himself from dwelling on the subject any longer. He didn't want to think about it any further – at least not until he could lock himself in his room with a large bottle of fire whiskey.

"You should consider the use of illusion spells if you do not want others to see your bruises," Ivan advised them as Snape put his shirt back on.

"Of course," Severus said, nodding his head.

"Your shirt," Ivan said, holding Harry's shirt out to him.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from him and transfiguring it into something that was a little easier to carry, and much less conspicuous. "I'll bring this one back when I can."

"Do not bother. It is safer that you keep it. I have plenty. You may leave now. Do not permit yourselves to be seen leaving here," the eccentric healer said, cleaning up his equipment.

"Thank you," Draco said, nodding to the healer on his way out of the room.

"I am grateful," Severus said, doing the same.

They left the shoppe through the door that led out into the alley, and apparated to the village near the school before anybody could discover them.

"Well?" Harry asked Severus as soon as they arrived at the village, daring him to comment.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Bee in your bonnet, Potter?"

"You saw it – all of it – the scars, the burns, everything."

"I have nothing to say on the subject," Severus said calmly. "If that is all, there are things we must attend to at the school."

"You're kidding, aren't you?" Harry asked with obvious disbelief. When had Snape ever passed up an opportunity to insult him?

"Unlike everybody else in the wizarding world, _my_ world, Mr Potter, does not revolve around _you_. I have better things to occupy my thoughts. Now, if you are done with this childishness, we have matters to attend to at the castle," the Potions Master said impatiently, hurrying off in the direction of the school.

"I'm really not looking forward to seeing Ginny," Draco confessed. "If she throws me out of the bedroom – which she's probably going to do for the next month – can I crash on your lounge?"

"Er, yeah, if you need it," Harry replied, a little surprised. "But, I thought you would have stayed with Snape."

"I've done that a couple of times, but to tell you the truth, I get a bit nervous staying in his rooms. He's got booby traps everywhere – and he thinks it's funny not to tell anyone about them," Draco said, shaking his head and hurrying to catch up with the Potions Master.

"No surprises there," Harry muttered, following behind him.

ooOoo

Professor Sprout met them out the front of the school, flushed and looking more than a little wild.

"Professor Snape, you're back!" she cried. "The Weasleys appear to be trapped in your rooms. There was yelling and…_screaming_. None of us can get in to help them –"

"I will deal with the matter. Thank you," Severus said, hurrying up the steps and sweeping through the castle to the dungeons.

"Wait a minute." Harry put his hand on the arm of the professor. "I'm going to see if I can contact Dobby."

Harry summoned, but the house elf did not appear. "Dobby!" Harry called again, feeling the bottom of his stomach shift uncomfortably. The elf still did not appear.

"Leave that task for now. It may take some to find the answers we are looking for. We will free the Weasleys and then search for Dobby."

Expecting to hear the Weasleys bellowing at the top of their lungs, he was surprised when he reached the dungeons and heard nothing but the sounds of students moving about the castle.

"This isn't good," Harry said quietly.

"I know. They've moved passed yelling and now they've gone _silent_," Draco said in the tones of someone who knew all too well what that meant.

They braced themselves as Severus threw open the door to his room. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had been magically bound to any available flat surface in the room. Hermione and Ginny had been bound to the wall on one side of the main sitting area, while Ron had been bound to the floor in front of the offending potions cabinet. They glared furiously at the three wizards.

"See what I mean? Booby traps _everywhere_," Draco said, shaking his head.

With a sigh, he stepped into the room. This was the first time he'd had actually seen Severus' personal rooms for himself. When he was younger, he always imagined that his professor lived in a room that resembled an actual dungeon. He would imagine that the man kept a large cauldron permanently brewing into which he fed various potion ingredients, and the occasional Gryffindor.

The Potion Master's room didn't look anything like a dungeon though. In fact it looked very striking, in an aristocratic kind of way. A black leather lounge setting was arranged around a simple black marble table which was completely bare save for a single Potions text, several pages of which had been flagged for future reference. A large bookshelf, which held an impressive collection of books and journals lined one entire wall of the living room and on the opposite wall hung a large glass display cabinet which was filled with row upon row of bottles, vials and decanters of Severus's potions, all neatly labelled and tidily grouped. The grey carpet and grey walls softened the otherwise entirely black décor and lifted the atmosphere of the room from sombre and dreary to elegant and handsome. The colour scheme seemed to suit the owner of the room very well, though Harry privately thought that his imagined decorations of stones and cauldrons also suited certain aspects of his personality.

"I trust you have not damaged my cabinet," Severus quirked, shutting the door behind Harry and Draco.

The three captives glared even harder, if possible. For all of his skills as an elite spy and a master of deception, at times Severus had all the diplomacy of a rampaging Hippogriff.

"Your family is safe," he said, pulling his wand out of his robes and releasing their restraints. Hermione and Ginny fell to the floor, and Ron moved his arms and legs gingerly, as if he didn't quite believe that he was free.

"Your muscles have been locked in stasis for quite some time. You will need to let them relax and contract, otherwise you may strain them," Severus informed them, moving to his potions cabinet and casting a few quiet spells over it, presumably to re-set the trap.

"I can't believe you left us behind," Ginny grated through clenched teeth, massaging the muscles in her leg. "They're _my _family; you had _no right_ to keep me from them."

"Your emotional ties with your family may have pushed you to act in a way that might have endangered us. That is not a risk we could not take. You will recall that we have made the same decision on many occasions during the last war with the Dark Lord," Severus replied, before Harry or Draco could say anything. "In any case, we do not have time to discuss this matter. We must locate Dobby," he continued, turning and heading for the door.

"I don't think I can get up right now," Ron grimaced, "my arms and legs feel all cramped up."

"So do mine," Ginny agreed.

"Before you do anything, you're going to tell us what happened while we were locked up in here," Hermione commanded them.

"Very well," Severus began a little impatiently. "The note we received this morning indicated that the security of the Ministry had been breached and that the Ministry required assistance. It was signed by Tonks, so we assumed that the matter needed to be handled discreetly and by the Order. We asked Dobby to contact a few key Order members in the school so that they might alert the others to the problem and we arranged to have them meet us at the Ministry. We waited outside the Ministry for some time, but nobody arrived, so we entered the building –"

"On your own?" Ginny cried, with a panicked look at Draco.

"There are places where three people can go that a group cannot," Severus said, cutting across their argument before it had a chance to start. "Once we freed the hostages, we discovered that the message we received in the morning, warning us of a breach to the security of the Ministry, had in fact not been sent by Tonks at all."

"So who sent it?" Hermione asked quickly.

"We do not know. If Tonks did not send that message, that means that the situation regarding the Ministry may have been nothing more than an elaborate trap, which we walked directly into. I am at a loss to explain how we managed to survive," Severus thought aloud.

"I see your point. If you had been set up, why did they let you survive the trap at all? There were only three of you, and how many people were in there?" Hermione asked, picking up Snape's train of thought.

"About thirty. Maybe a few less," Draco supplied helpfully.

"_Thirty_!_" _Ginny practically screamed. "On your own? Damn it Draco, I could have _lost_ you!" she said, on the edge of tears.

"Ginny," Draco began.

"Don't _'Ginny'_ me!" she said, her voice shaking a little more than she'd intended.

"And you said you gave Dobby direct instructions to alert the other Order members, didn't you?" Hermione asked, her brows furrowed in thought. It was a look so familiar to Harry that he felt his heart contract a bit; reminding him of their school days when he and Ron would gather around Hermione, while she puzzled their way through the mysteries they had found themselves in.

"Mr Potter did," Severus clarified.

"It's not like Dobby to disobey an order from a school professor, particularly when it came from Harry," Hermione said, sounding worried.

"I tried calling him when we got back, but he didn't come," Harry said, equally as worried.

"It was our intention to search for Dobby once we had relieved you of your…indisposition," Severus said. Harry could have sworn that he saw the Potions Master's lip curl, before it was quickly hidden under his characteristic impassiveness.

"_Indisposition?_" Ron spluttered. "We were held here like _prisoners_, even though it was _our own family_ that was in danger –"

"The idea to leave the three of you here was mine, so if you wish to argue about it I will be more than happy to accommodate you," Severus said sternly. Ginny, Hermione and Ron kept quiet.

Harry looked at the Potions Master, a little surprised. The idea had been Draco's, and though they all agreed with him, it was unlike Snape to take the blame for something that he wasn't responsible for. In fact, in Harry's opinion, it was unlike Snape – and it went against Slytherin principles entirely – to take the blame for something one _was _responsible for. It _did _seem to head off any arguments that might have erupted, though. None of the Weasleys seemed to want to pick a fight with the Potions Master.

"What's done is done," Hermione said crisply, glaring at Severus, Draco and Harry in turn, though Harry thought she seemed to glare a little longer and harder at him. "We need to find Dobby. But first thing's first. Are the three of you all right?" Hermione asked quickly, looking at them closely. "I don't know what sort of concealment spell you're using, but I don't believe that you walked through a building full of hostile witches and wizards and came out without so much as a scratch on you."

"The illusion is for the benefit of the students and others in the school. We do not wish to raise unnecessary suspicion about our activities," Severus explained sternly.

"But you _are_ all right, aren't you?" Ginny pressed.

"We are fine. We sustained only minor injuries." Snape looked slightly awkward, as though he wasn't used to genuine concern.

"That's a relief, but yours aren't going to _stay_ minor, Draco, because I'm going to _kill_ you when we get back to our rooms," Ginny said. Her voice had started to shake a little again.

Harry and Draco helped their friends up. Hermione wouldn't look at Harry as he helped her up but Ginny literally bristled under Draco's touch. The young man looked slightly pained when he let his wife go.

"I'm fine!" Ron said bluntly when Harry offered his hand to him.

"I know that," Harry sighed, grabbing Ron's hand and pulling him to his feet. Ron was just as stubborn as he'd always been. If he hadn't grabbed Ron's hand, Ron would never have taken it.

"We need to talk," Ron said gruffly, looking at Harry.

"Are you able to move?" Severus asked, cutting across the impending argument.

"Sort of," Hermione nodded, looking curiously at Severus.

"Very well. Whatever you need to do can wait Mr Weasley, we have more pressing matters to attend to," Severus instructed, ignoring the glare Ron had levelled at him.

"What a horrid time for Albus to be away," Hermione complained. "All things aside though, we must find Dobby. If he didn't answer a summons it means that he's in trouble, and something tells me this is all connected."

"It could take ages to find him, _if _he's even in the castle," Ron said grimly.

"The Marauders Map!" Hermione cried. "I mean -" she clapped her hand over her mouth, her face colouring at the fact that she'd practically shrieked the suggestion.

Nobody needed to ask if Harry still had the map. It was a Marauders keepsake, a cherished memento. One of the few things he had left of his father's. Of course he still had it.

"A childish application of magic," Severus huffed dismissively.

"I disagree. I think it's an _ingenious_ application of wizarding skills, and it'll certainly come in handy right now," Harry replied. "But it's up in my rooms, so I'll run up and get it. Rather than coming all the way back down here, I'll just meet you all up there," he nodded, turning and heading out of Severus' rooms. He flew through the corridors, somehow managing to avoid barrelling over any innocent students who had the misfortune to find themselves in his path.

He was forced to stop so that he could properly "disarm" the door to his rooms, and once the more dangerous spells had been removed, he stepped inside, leaving the door unlocked that the others could get in.

It took some digging to finally retrieve the map. It was odd that he hadn't had occasion to use it since he'd arrived, and it sat at the bottom of his largest suitcase, wrapped up in robes belonging to Sirius that Remus had given him just after Sirius had died. Harry hadn't been able to bring himself to wear them, even once, but he couldn't bring himself to part with them either, so they lay, carefully folded, at the bottom of his suitcase, and they went with him every time he moved.

ooOOoo

"Hey, there weren't this many photos up there the last time we were here," Hermione said, once they had all gathered in Harry's sitting room. She stood looking curiously at the mantle piece over the fire place. "There was only one, two at the most," she said, picking a photo up off the mantle piece and looking closely at it. Harry's mother and father stared back at her from the frame. James stood behind Lily with his arms wrapped tightly about her waist. He kissed her lightly on the neck before he looked up and waved at the camera. Lily laughed at James' antics but joined him in waving to the camera.

"They look so happy. His mum was beautiful and his dad looked –" Hermione began, but stopped when she caught Severus glaring at her.

Hermione picked up a muggle photograph and looked at it curiously. Harry was posed with a group of people outside a muggle pharmacy, dressed in his pharmacist's uniform. "I wonder who _they _are."

"Didn't Harry say he became a muggle pharmacist? This is probably a picture of where he worked, and the people he worked with," Ginny replied, peering at the photograph over Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione carefully replaced the photo. "I wonder who took this one. It looks like it was taken during our fifth year, when we were spending so much time with Sirius at his house, but I don't remember anyone having a camera with them," she said, pointing to a wizard photo of Harry and Sirius having a food fight in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

"Remus had one. He was trying to make an album for Harry, but he couldn't get enough photos together," Ron grunted. "It was going to be a joint birthday present from Remus and Sirius. Remus was going to give Sirius a copy of all of the photos as well. Sirius hated the house and he was going bananas being cooped up in it all the time, so Remus thought it might help him a little bit if he had photos of us all having fun in the house."

"How did _you_ know about this when _we _didn't?" Hermione asked.

"I heard Remus talking to mum about it once. I was going to tell you, but a lot of stuff happened after that, what with Umbridge coming to school and everything, and I guess I just never got around to it. Afterwards, it just didn't seem important anymore."

"Speaking of Sirius, you might like to know that Bellatrix Lestrange is dead. She was killed at the Ministry today," Draco said.

"Good, but did Harry…er –"

"She and Harry duelled, and she died. We didn't see what happened," Draco replied. The others looked to Severus who nodded his agreement.

"We shall have to cut our conversation short. I do believe that is the sound of Mr Potter thundering down the hallway toward us."

ooOOoo

With the Marauders Map in one hand and his father's invisibility cloak in the other, Harry rushed into the lounge room.

"Sorry I took so long. I had to dig a bit for it," he said, taking a seat on one of the couches and spreading the map open on the coffee table in front of him.

The others crowded about the table to have a look at the map for themselves, though Harry noticed that Ron kept his distance.

"If he's in the castle, where could he be that he couldn't come to you when you called for him?" Hermione asked, poring over the map.

"I have been wondering the same thing myself," Severus said, his eyes darting every which way about the map, as though he were trying to take it all in at once.

"He could be anywhere – in one of the passages, or maybe he's stuck somewhere, or maybe…hey, where do Hogwarts's house elves go to sleep, anyway?" Ginny asked.

"He is here," Severus said, pointing to a spot on the map.

Almost as one, they all moved in for a closer look.

"The Room of Requirement," Ginny whispered, looking at the small banner bearing Dobby's name that floated casually over the plan of the small room.

Harry picked up the map and dashed out of the room, with the others close on his heels. Taking the stairs two at a time he reached the third level in no time at all and was surprised to find the corridor empty, save for a young witch, who Harry recognised as a friend of Theresa Chan's. He turned his back to her, rummaging through his pockets, desperately searching for a reason to send her away. A small piece of parchment in his pocket gave him an idea.

"Excuse me, Miss Thomas," Harry called politely. "I wonder if you'd do me a favour?"

"Of course, sir," the young girl replied, looking up at Harry with bright eyes – and a slightly love-sick expression.

"I wonder if you might give this to Professor Flitwick for me," he asked, holding out a freshly sealed scroll.

"No, not at all," the young girl replied, taking the scroll from Harry and practically skipping away.

"What did you do to her?" Draco asked suspiciously, coming around the corner and watching the young witch skip past him, grinning as though she'd just been hit with a rather strong cheering charm.

"Nothing. I asked her to leave, that's all," Harry replied.

The rest of them looked unconvinced, but Harry just shrugged and turned to the magical room.

"How on earth are we going to get in there? I have no idea what type of room we need to wish for," Harry groaned

"Easy," Hermione said excitedly after a moment's thought. "All you need to do is wish to find yourself in a room that has Dobby in it."

"All right," Harry nodded, pacing the hall and concentrating his thoughts on the room he needed.

"Though, you need not take all day letting the room know what you wish to find," Severus added after several moments had passed.

Ignoring the Potions Master, Harry opened the door and stepped inside.

"Bloody hell," he blinked in surprise. Dobby lay curled up on the floor, looking for all the world as if he were asleep, his body rising and falling gently with the rhythm of his breathing.

"What? What did you find?" Ginny cried, rushing in after Harry. Severus ushered the others into the room and closed the door quietly behind them.

"He looks…_peaceful_," Draco noted incredulously, moving to get a closer look at the elf. "Like he's _sleeping_."

"He wouldn't have fallen asleep after I asked him to do something," Harry said defensively, pulling out his wand and crouching on the floor by Dobby.

"Enervate," he murmured.

Dobby stirred, but didn't wake up.

"Enervate," Harry tried again, a little more forcefully

Again Dobby stirred, but he still didn't wake up.

"It's powerful magic that can knock a house elf out so well," Draco said grimly.

"Sorry Dobby, this is going to hurt a little bit," Harry apologised quietly before he pointed his wand at him again. "Enervate," he shouted, sending a powerful surge of magic at the house elf.

"Augh!" Dobby cried, bolting awake and leaping up into the air.

"Sorry, Dobby," Harry apologised again.

"You didn't hurt him did you?" Hermione asked, looking anxiously at Dobby.

"No. Well, only a little bit, but we can't afford to wait for him to come around on his own," Harry said, defending his actions.

"You were assuming that he was going to be _able_ to come around on his own," Severus clarified.

"Harry Potter, sir! What are you doing here?" Dobby cried. He'd stopped hopping about the room and had kneeled down in front of Harry.

"What are _you_ doing here, Dobby?" Harry asked carefully.

"Dobby is supposed to be here!" Dobby replied, cocking his head and looking curiously at Harry.

"In _here_?" Harry asked, gesturing around the room, which was completely bare, save for the chamber pot in the far corner.

Dobby looked about himself. "This is not the kitchen, Harry Potter sir! Where is 'here'? And what _is _Dobby doing here?"

"Do you not remember?" Severus asked him.

"No, Professor Snape, sir. I was preparing lunch in the kitchen sir, and now I am ending up here. Dobby does not understand what has happened, but Dobby must be running late for lunch. The other elves will be angry if Dobby is not there to do my work and they may tell Professor Dumbledore and Professor Dumbledore may fire Dobby, and Dobby doesn't want to be sent away, sir. Dobby likes to work!" the little elf babbled, getting to his feet and heading for the door.

"Hang on a second," Ron said, grabbing the little elf's arm before he could leave.

"I just want to talk to you. Don't worry, Professor Dumbledore won't send you away. You're his hardest working house elf," Harry said as Ron brought Dobby back.

"Professor Dumbledore really thinks so of Dobby?" the house elf asked.

"Of course he does," Harry said. "Now, what was the last thing you remember doing today?"

"Dobby was helping to prepare the lunch meal. Winky had spilled a whole bottle of cider on the floor and Dobby was helping her to mop it up," Dobby replied.

"Is that where you were when I called for you?" Harry pressed.

"Harry Potter did not call for Dobby. Dobby would have come right away if he had," Dobby said, looking confused. "Perhaps Harry Potter did summon Dobby and Dobby did not answer his call and now Harry Potter is angry at Dobby. Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" the house elf cried, striking himself about the head

"No, no, Dobby. I was confused. I didn't call you this morning. I must have been thinking of something else. Please stop doing that," Harry said, grabbing Dobby's head in his hands to stop him from hurting himself any further.

"So Harry Potter called a house elf who was _not Dobby_?" Dobby asked, stricken. He struggled against Harry's grip, trying to free himself presumably so that he could inflict more injuries on himself.

"No, no I didn't," Harry said quickly, keeping a firm hold on the house elf. "You know that I wouldn't do something like that, right?" Harry asked, turning the tables on his little friend and taking the advantage in this little struggle for himself.

Dobby stopped struggling almost immediately. "Of course I do, Harry Potter, sir. Harry Potter is special to Dobby," he said with his big round brimming eyes.

Harry was, touched by the little elf's rather enthusiastic declaration. "Anyway, we came looking for you, because…er…Ginny has something she wants to give you," he continued, checking the house elf over carefully now that he wasn't struggling anymore.

"I do?" Ginny said, looking rather like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Miss Ginny has something for Dobby?" Dobby asked, getting excited.

"Er…yes…er…I do…" Ginny stammered, coming to kneel by Harry on the floor.

"Can you give me a few minutes? I don't want him to hear what I'm going to say," Harry said, leaning over and whispering into her ear. Ginny's nod was barely noticeable.

"I have a _couple _of things for you, Dobby," Ginny said, rummaging through her pockets, looking slightly desperate.

"I need a word," he said quietly to Severus.

The Potions Master looked a little surprised but nodded and the two men moved far enough away from Dobby that he wouldn't hear what they were saying, but not far enough to rouse his suspicions. Draco, Ron and Hermione followed them, looking a little miffed that they might have been left out of the discussion.

"Someone's put a memory charm on him," Harry said grimly.

"Which raises the questions of _who _and _why_," Severus added, looking just as grim.

"And _how_," Hermione said. "House elves use their own type of powerful magic, and they're perfectly capable of protecting themselves."

"Dobby will have the answers," Severus said quietly.

"It's possible to break through a memory charm," Draco said, breaking the brief silence that had fallen over them. "How badly do you want the answers?" he continued, ignoring the harsh glares of Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

"Very," Severus replied.

"The only way _I _know of to break through a memory charm is to torture them until their mind breaks, and I won't let you do that to him," Harry hissed.

"Someone has sent us a note to lure us to the Ministry and then attacked a house elf. Would you still feel that way if to do so would be to compromise the safety of everybody in this castle?" Severus asked.

Harry looked away. He couldn't answer the question because he honestly didn't know what he should do. On the one hand, Severus was right, but on the other hand, he couldn't bring himself to do that to Dobby.

"In any case," Severus continued, "There is a less severe method to break through a memory charm than to torture someone until they break. A memory concealed by a charm leaves a very faint tell-tale signature in a person's, or elf's as the case may be, memory. It is difficult to detect unless you know what you are looking for. As we know where the memory should have fit into Dobby's sequence of memories, it should not be too difficult to find the concealed memory. It is possible to isolate the memory and exert magical force or pressure onto the charm until it yields, revealing the concealed memory. However, it is very _precise_ work."

"What would happen if someone were to exert too much force on the charm, or if they didn't isolate the specific memory properly?" Hermione asked, her concern showing on her face.

Severus paused. "As I have said, it is very precise and delicate work. There are consequences to making errors."

"What sort of consequences?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Insanity, permanent brain damage, perhaps even death," Severus replied.

Ron gave a low whistle. "Bloody hell. Is there any other way to get the information from Dobby?" he asked quietly.

"I do not think so," Severus shook his head.

"Have you ever retrieved a memory like that before?" Harry asked the Potions Master.

"Once," he replied.

"And what happened?" Harry pressed.

"I was…moderately successful."

"_Moderately?"_

"The subject had been tortured considerably and his mind had been affected. It was difficult to navigate and, while I succeeded in retrieving the suppressed memory, I am uncertain as to whether I caused him any further harm. Given the state he was in, I could not be sure."

"If his mind hadn't been affected, do you think you could have retrieved the memory without injuring him?" Harry asked, looking at Dobby who was happily talking with Ginny and apparently oblivious to their conversation.

"I believe so," the Potions Master replied, after several moments careful thought.

"Dobby's an _elf_, though. That's going to make a difference, isn't it?" Hermione whispered urgently.

"It will make _some _difference, however, house elves think in similar terms and concepts as humans..."

Harry looked his former professor right in the eyes. "Do you think you could do it without injuring Dobby?"

"Yes," Severus replied confidently, and Harry had no choice but to believe him. Snape was not the type of man to give in to false bravado. If he thought that the task was beyond his capabilities he would have admitted it – however reluctantly – and searched for another solution.

"I'm not happy about this, but I don't see any other way to do this. Just _please_ be careful, Professor Snape," Hermione pleaded.

Severus nodded once before drawing his wand and stunning Dobby just as he was about to accept a pair of socks that had come from Ginny's own two feet.

"Augh! Why did you do that?" Ginny cried as Hermione dragged her away to explain.

"We must break the memory charm placed on Dobby. It will be less painful for him if he were not conscious while I did this," Severus explained, coming to sit beside the stunned house elf. As much as Harry wanted to stand over the professor and make sure that Dobby was alright, he held himself back. If Snape made a mistake because he was in the way, he wouldn't forgive himself.

Nevertheless, Harry watched Snape closely as he delved into Dobby's unguarded mind. With his eyes closed, and his wand moving only very occasionally, Severus was the very picture of concentration. Difficult as it generally was to distinguish between the Potion Master's various expressions, his countenance lacked its usual disdain. Now that Harry thought about it, he'd seen the same expression of untainted concentration on his former professor during the Order meetings he'd attended.

And then it was over. Severus opened his eyes and lowered his wand. "After Mr Potter spoke to Dobby, he was summoned. When he answered the call he blacked out and remained unconscious until Mr Potter woke him up. He must have been attacked from behind, as he saw nobody when he answered the summons."

"Will he be all right?" the others asked all at the same time.

"I will not know until he wakes up. I believe he is uninjured, though he will have a severe headache for the next three or four days," Severus said, getting to his feet and dusting off his clothes.

"Could you recognise who summoned him?" Hermione asked the professor.

"I did not recognise the voice of the wizard—or witch—who called him, and as I have already mentioned, Dobby did not see who attacked him."

"Realistically though, there are a lot of people in this school who would support Voldemort. For a start, half of Slytherin have family who openly supported him, if they didn't actually _serve _him," Draco pointed out.

"Not many people would risk attacking a house elf in the school where there is such a large risk of being caught," Severus added.

"Do you think whoever did this was after Dobby in particular? I mean, it's no secret that Dobby's closer to Harry and Albus than the other elves are," Ginny asked.

"I cannot be sure. Considering that Dobby's attack was one of a _series _of suspicious events, it is doubtful that eliminating Dobby was their sole purpose. However, it is as you say; his fondness for the Headmaster and Mr Potter is not a secret. As such, getting rid of him may be _one _of their purposes."

The others looked stricken.

"On the other hand, Dobby may simply have been a casualty of circumstance," Severus added.

"You don't believe that, do you?" Ron asked him dubiously.

The older man paused. "No."

"Neither do I," Harry added.

"We don't have to worry _too _much about Dobby. He can take care of himself. When he wakes up, put him on his guard. Let him know that something's going on and that he'll need to have his defences up until we can get to the bottom of it. He'll know what to do. He survived being in service to the Malfoys after all and that was no easy task in itself. My family kept all manner of dark and unusual things in the house, and I was none to nice to him myself. Now that I think about it, we lost quite a few elves, but Dobby was very good at avoiding all of the traps that my father set about the house. He may _look _clumsy, but he's really quite skilled," Draco suggested.

"We should let the rest of the school's staff know that someone has attacked Dobby, and ask them all to keep an eye on him as well. We can explain everything to the school's Order members later, but we can let everyone else think that it was an attack by someone who just didn't like house elves. There are plenty of those sorts of people out there," Ron added.

"That's what I've been saying _all along_," Hermione began, her eyes bright. "If we made people more aware of the –"

"Please don't start in on S.P.E.W now, sweetheart," Ron groaned.

"That is all we can do for the moment," Severus said, surprising Ron by agreeing with him. "We left the Aurors to question the Death Eaters and other Dark Lord supporters who were sealed inside the Ministry. As there were a number of them, it may take some time for them to finish their task. I would imagine that by tomorrow they will have some information to share with us," Severus said, turning to leave.

"During the last war, did students ever attack other students, or creatures that were living in the school? I know that Voldemort recruited students, but I don't know what he used them for," Harry asked suddenly.

"Voldemort used his student recruits as spies. He needed information about what was happening inside the school. He used Severus to find out what Albus and the other teachers were doing. He used the students to recruit others, and to find out what was happening at the student level. He wouldn't risk having his students openly attacking anyone, or anything. If they were caught, they would be too easy to garner information from. Students are too young to have properly learned the art of Occlumency so that they can keep people out of their minds, and they're too young and self-centred to protect his secrets under the threat of more forceful – and painful – methods of questioning," Draco replied.

Hermione looked at Harry. "You really didn't know that, did you?" she asked softly.

"No. It was dangerous for me to come back here, so I sort of lost touch with what was going on out here," Harry said quickly. "If there's nothing more to do, I'll take Dobby to the infirmary and let Poppy take care of him."

"Dumbledore didn't mention anything about that to _us_. He told us that you needed more training than what you were getting, and that he wanted to make sure you were ready for when things came to a head with Voldemort," Ginny said quietly. "Why was it so dangerous for you to stay with us? You'd been with us all along up until then."

The summer after his fifth year at school was a particularly unpleasant time for him. Having been separated from his only friends and given over to a group of elite instructors to begin a period of intensive wizarding training, it had taken some time to adjust to the circumstances he had found himself in. He didn't remember much about those first few months, aside from feeling angry and upset and empty all at the same time.

"You're avoiding the question," Ron growled. "I've been meaning to have a word to you about all of this for a while now."

"A word, huh?" Harry asked, dubiously. Ron had never been the type to have 'a word' with anybody when he was angry.

"I'm sick of having to say this time and time again. I don't need to explain myself to anyone. I'm not a child," Harry said flatly, feeling his temper start to flare.

"When you start hurting the people around you, that's when you need to start explaining yourself. I don't think you even realise how much you upset Hermione and Ginny. They cried for months. Even Dobby went missing for weeks at a time every now and then so that he could look for you," Ron cried, angrily.

Harry snorted and made to leave, but Ron grabbed him and punched him in the jaw, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Ron!" Hermione and Ginny cried.

Nobody interfered with the two of them, but Severus drew his wand and levitated Dobby out of harm's way.

"Not to mention how _I _felt. It would have been less painful to lose a limb! You just picked up and left – without saying a word – like everything we'd been through together meant nothing! You lived this whole other life, all the while we were left wondering whether you were even still alive. You talk like you were all alone during those last few years of the war, but you were _never _alone. We were always with you, even if we couldn't be standing next to you, you _idiot_!" Ron lunged for Harry again, but Harry grabbed his arms and pushed him back across the room.

Harry rubbed his jaw, noting with some concern that his jaw now clicked whenever he opened and closed his mouth. He hoped that this wasn't permanent.

"I'm really tired of feeling like I have to keep apologising for everything that happened. Yes, I lived a whole other life and yes, I kept it all a secret from you. But to be completely honest, I wanted nothing more to do with this place – including you!"

Hermione and Ginny gasped and Ron clenched his fists.

"Voldemort and his Death Eaters were doing everything they could to kill me and swing that sodding Prophecy in Voldemort's favour. 'Neither can live while the other survives'," Harry spat, "Voldemort can't move forward until he kills me, and by the same token, no one has a greater interest in killing Voldemort than I do. But they found that – for whatever reason, but mostly because of sheer dumb luck – I wasn't as easy to find and kill as they thought, so they started killing the people around me. It wasn't just my friends; they killed anyone who was even _suspected_ of being associated with me. Dumbledore promised me that he'd protect you, and I asked a few friends to keep an eye on you as well – just to be sure."

"Albus had us practically house and school bound for a long time. After we finished school, Albus wouldn't let us go _anywhere _unaccompanied. I thought it might have been because we were so young, but now…" Hermione thought aloud.

"I can't say I was worse off than anyone else. Everyone who had any part of that war risked their lives. So much had happened. People change if the situation demands it. I changed. I didn't even realise it until I looked into the mirror one day and found that I couldn't recognise the person looking back."

Harry sighed. "I didn't even feel _human _by the time the war ended," he muttered so quietly that the others had to strain to hear him.

Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Voldemort gave me some of his power the first time he tried to kill me. At first, I didn't think anything of it…but the more I learned, and the more I did, the more I started to see him in me—in the things that I was doing, and the person I was becoming. By the end of the war, I swear I could _feel _him alive inside me."

"He's evil right to the core. You're _nothing _like that," Ginny insisted, fiercely.

"You think so, do you?" Harry asked her in a voice that held no trace of warmth or feeling. "Do you know what I did to Voldemort during that final battle? I set a spell on him that tore him apart from the inside out. It ate away at him until there was literally nothing left. Well, there was _supposed_ to be nothing left. I even stood there and watched until the last part of him had disappeared. It was savage. Absolutely brutal, but do you know what? I didn't feel anything. Not a thing. In fact, I remember thinking how alike we were, because if he had developed that same spell, I could see him using it on _me _and watching _me _die, just like I'd done to _him_."

Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked taken aback, while the two former Slytherins looked impassive. He didn't expect them to be surprised. It would take a lot to shock somebody who used to serve in Voldemort's own inner circle.

"After Voldemort had died—well, after I _thought _he'd died, I couldn't stay here. I didn't want to see another witch, wizard, or magical item as along as I lived, so I moved to London. Muggle London. After a while I noticed that the Voldemort inside me started to disappear. I stopped seeing him when I looked in the mirror. I was free of all of that, but now he's back. I can _feel _it.

"Damn! If Voldemort hadn't given me that bloody headache the day he came back, no one would never have known I'd come back. I was only going to be here for a year. Just a year and then I would have been able to move on."

Harry carefully picked Dobby up and headed for the door.

"So you can see that it's best if you all stay away from me. I don't know what's going to happen," he said, coming to a halt before Severus, who was blocking the doorway.

The two wizards stared at each other in a silent battle of wills. "Before you leave, I have one question. In your fifth year, the Dark Lord attempted to acquire the only copy of the Prophecy in existence. Dumbledore told the Order what the Prophecy said. As I recall, though, the copy of the Prophecy was lost before the Dark Lord could learn what it said. How did he learn what was predicted in the Prophecy?"

Harry silently debated whether he should lie to his former professor or not. At this time, with things looking like the world was about to be plunged into another war, there was nothing to be gained from keeping this from the Order.

"I told him," he said finally. "Now let me through."

"Harry, why?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Never mind," he said, brushing past Severus and leaving the room.

The others looked at each other, unable to speak for several minutes.

"Given all that has happened, _I _do not have any objections to the method Mr Potter chose to use in his last attempt to dispose of the Dark Lord. In fact, I am disappointed that I was not afforded an opportunity to see it myself," Severus said finally, breaking the tense silence.

"Me too," Draco nodded. "I'm concerned about what he told Voldemort though."

"As am I. We will need to discover what other information he gave to the Dark Lord," Severus agreed.

ooOOoo

The shadow creature bowed reverently at his master's feet.

"What have you to report?" Voldemort asked, beckoning the creature closer. "Did Potter take the bait?"

"He did, master. He arrived, as you said he would, but he brought the traitors, Snape and Malfoy, with him," the shadow creature reported, keeping his head low as he inched forward.

Voldemort looked "I certainly did not expect _that_," the Dark Lord remarked. "And how did he perform?"

"It took them more than ninety minutes to free the hostages. More than two thirds of our force was incapacitated and two were killed. Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the ones who died, master; the other was one of the initiates."

"Bellatrix was a fool. Still, she was loyal. I suppose I must commend her for that. Were you noticed?"

"No, my Lord. I moved through the shadows and the portraits. I was invisible to their eyes."

"What became of Messrs Potter, Snape and Malfoy?"

"Potter, Snape and Malfoy only received minor injuries, whilst the remainder of the hostages remained relatively uninjured."

"And the documents I requested?"

"Here, my Lord," the shadow creature replied, handing the documents to his master.

"Thank you, my pet," Voldemort hissed to the shadow creature at his feet, "you have served your master well. I will call upon you when I have further use for you."

The shadow creature kept his head bowed low as he backed out of the room.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I cannot see the purpose of this morning's exercise at the Ministry," an older wizard said timidly. The Dark Lord had been supervising the brewing of an experimental potion when the shadow creature had interrupted them and it was more than his life's worth to stop brewing and spoil a whole batch of potions. "Er, forgive me, my Lord. It – it is not my place to question you," the Death Eater stammered nervously, wondering what sort of idiocy had pushed him to ask the question in the first place.

"You are right. It is _not _your place to question, and if you were not such a fool you would not need to ask such a question," Voldemort said, drawing his wand.

"Crucio," he murmured, watching with satisfaction as the Death Eater writhed and screamed under the effects of the spell.

"Potter is joyously predictable. If he believes somebody is in danger, he cannot stop himself from running to their rescue. He and I have been…out of touch…for many years now. I created a situation, that he could not help but respond to, so that I could gauge his abilities, and I had one of our own from the school make sure that he could not call others to his aid, though I notice he had Snape and Malfoy to help him. Still, it is easy to see that he has grown weaker in my absence. I filled the building with third rate witches and wizards – novices and candidates for positions among my circle of followers. He should not have had as much trouble freeing the hostages as he did."

The Death Eater, bowed low at the feet of his master, touching his head to the ground in front of him. "No, my Lord."

I also left a handful of Death Eaters in the building, people he should be able to recognise, so that he would know who orchestrated this morning's little exercise. I would not want him to think that I have stopped thinking of him, that I am _neglecting _him."

"No, my Lord," the Death Eater repeated.

"Get up. I will not have you ruin my potion," Voldemort snapped at the grovelling figure in front of him.

"Yes, my Lord. Of course," the Death Eater mumbled, leaping to his feet and getting back to stirring potion.

"My Lord," a Death Eater announced from the doorway. "I have prepared the subject. He is ready to test the poison."

"Take the brew down and make sure you document the results thoroughly," the Dark Lord commanded the Death Eater who was still trembling noticeably and doing his best to stir the brew.

"Yes, my Lord," he bowed, before he grabbed the large cauldron and practically ran out of the room, with the other Death Eater close on his heels.

"I admit that you do have _some_ measure of power, Potter. Though that is really not too surprising. You did _take_ some of my power when you were but a child," the Dark Lord pondered aloud, sifting through the documents until he found the one he was looking for. "It is as I suspected," he said, pleased with what he had discovered.

ooOoo

Several of the beds in the infirmary were already filled with students by the time Harry arrived with Dobby.

Unable to explain what had happened earlier that day for fear of being overheard, Harry simply handed Dobby over to the medi-witch and left instructions about what had transpired, and for his safe guarding. She nodded grimly and set about making Dobby comfortable on a bed, while Harry headed out of the infirmary and off to his rooms.

Several piles of student revision exams were waiting for him on his desk when he arrived. He had left them there this morning, intending to get to them after he finished teaching his classes for the day, but he ignored them and headed straight for his liquor cabinet. Much of it was still filled with his and Greg's favourite muggle drinks, but he'd added a few bottles of firewhiskey and other wizarding drinks to it some months ago, when he'd started to feel a little more comfortable in the wizarding world. He pulled out a couple of bottles, retrieved an old shoe box from the back of his wardrobe and settled himself on the floor in his sitting room, with the box on his lap.

When he'd moved to the muggle world he'd stored all of the photographs he had of his family and his friends in an old shoebox and hidden them away. Hagrid had put together an album of photographs of his mother and father for him when he was in his first year, and he'd shrunk it and stored it in the old shoebox as well. In all the time he'd been away from the wizarding world, he hadn't looked at them. The idea had always been too painful to entertain.

When Greg had moved in with him, he'd been extremely careful to keep it out of sight. But Greg had had a talent for finding things that were supposed to be hidden and, in the end, Harry had to resort to magical methods to make sure it stayed hidden.

His meeting with Bellatrix and his argument with Ron had reminded him of just how much he'd missed everyone, and how much he _still_ missed his mother and father and Sirius. Looking at his old photographs almost made him feel like he was _with_ them, even if they weren't here any more.

It was some time later when a loud knock on the door interrupted Harry. He checked his watch and was surprised to find that it was already late evening. It was unusual for anyone to disturb him at such a late hour. He made his way to the door a little clumsily and, remembering what happened to Dobby, he drew his wand and unlocked his door, peering cautiously around it. Draco stood on the other side.

"Relax, it's just me," Draco said, noticing Harry's caution. "Is that offer still open to crash on your lounge?" Draco asked, looking just a little sheepish.

"Yes, of course. I didn't think that Ginny would be kicking you out though. She didn't look like she was _too _angry with you when I last saw her." Harry replied, putting his wand away and opening the door to let him in.

"Thanks. Ginny has this idea in her head that given what I used to do and the type of people my own spies and contacts are, and the type of people some of my friends are, that I'm going to go off one day and do something stupid and get myself killed. She thinks that if she's there with me, she might be able to keep an eye on me so that doesn't happen. She gets upset whenever I go off on my own and leave her behind. Something about being scared that I won't come back."

"I guess she's got a point. I mean, now that you've been found to have betrayed Voldemort, there _are _a lot of people who would like to see you dead," Harry thought aloud. "But I'd imagine that there are times that you _have _to leave her behind. She understands that, doesn't she?" Harry said, heading back into the sitting room.

"Yes and no. She understands, but she still gets angry when it happens. Like today."

"Ah, that sounds like her," Harry nodded knowingly, heading into the lounge room and leaving Draco to shut the door behind him.

"Er, you've either suddenly forgotten how to coordinate your left and right feet, or you've been drinking – without _me_," Draco said, sniffing the air and watching the little bit of clumsiness that had crept into Harry's movements.

"I think it's a little of both actually," Harry admitted, looking at almost empty bottle of firewhiskey on the floor next to his photographs. He turned back to find Draco also looking at the photographs scattered across the floor, looking almost wistful, but almost angry at the same time.

"You might have started without me, but I'm sure I can catch up. Here, I came bearing gifts," Draco said with a grin, pulling two small bottles of scotch, enlarging them and offering them to Harry.

Harry put them on the coffee table, next to his other bottle of fire whiskey. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him that it wasa school night and that he had classes to teach tomorrow, which he couldn't very well do with a hang over. It was difficult to listen to that voice with a shoe-box full of memories and three bottles of alcohol staring at him.

Draco dropped down to the floor and picked up one of the photos. "Ginny's shown me a couple of pictures of your mum and dad, but they were only old school photos that she and Hermione found in some old year books. They didn't do them justice though. Your mum is really beautiful, and your _Dad_, I really had no idea how much you look like him," he said quietly.

"I know," Harry said sadly, finding his spot on the floor again. "Sometimes it gets a bit hard to look in the mirror."

"I'm the spitting image of my father as well, except that he had long hair and I deliberately keep mine short. You know how much of a monster my father was. My reasons are a little different to yours but I find it a bit difficult to look in the mirror as well. Ginny says that all my problems will be solved if I dyed my hair red, though. Then I'd look nothing like my father. Maybe you should do the same," Draco suggested lightly.

Harry snorted. "Duck your head," he instructed his friend, drawing his wand. "Accio two drinking glasses."

Two drinking glasses whizzed over Draco's head and flew into Harry's outstretched hands.

"You could have taken my head off!"

"Your head was perfectly safe," Harry said dismissively. Now what did you want to drink?"

"Whatever you're drinking is fine," Draco replied, looking at another photo.

Harry poured what was left of the firewhiskey into the glasses and handed one of them to his friend as a loud knock interrupted Harry for the second time in about ten minutes.

"You're certainly popular tonight," Draco said, sipping his drink and looking at the photo in his hand.

Harry put his drink down and re-traced his steps to the door. Drawing his wand he opened the door carefully.

"Hi," Ron said, shifting his weight from one foot to the next, looking extremely uncomfortable and blushing to the roots of his hair. "I…er…was…um…I found my old chess set, the one we used to use in school, and I thought…well…did you fancy a game?" Ron blurted out nervously, holding up an old chess set that looked like it should have been thrown away years ago.

"Um…sure. Come on in," Harry said, surprised. It took him a moment to recover himself and remember to let Ron inside. A game of chess was the last thing he was in the mood for, but he would have died before he turned down Ron's peace offering.

"Listen, Harry. I'm…I'm…" Ron stuttered.

"I don't need to hear it," Harry said dismissively. And he meant it. He and Ron had a bond that went beyond these sorts of fights and squabbles.

"But I need to say it. I'm sorry –"

"I understand," Harry said quietly.

Ron extended his hand to Harry and Harry shook it. A weight lifted off his shoulders. He and Ron were all right again. Now if only everything else could be resolved so easily.

"What are you doing here? Did Ginny kick you out again?" Ron asked Draco, taking a seat on the floor.

"Yep," Draco sighed.

"Are we interrupting anything, Harry?" Ron asked, looking at the photographs Harry had scattered about the floor.

"No, not really," Harry sighed, grabbing another glass from the kitchen and bringing it to the sitting room. They _had_ interrupted him, but he didn't mind. It had felt good to be able to talk about his family with people.

"What'll you have?" Harry asked Ron, pointing to the selection of drinks on the coffee table.

"Anything is fine," he replied. "Bloody Hell, we look young!" he exclaimed, picking up a photograph of he, Harry and Hermione in their second year of school.

"Well, you _were _twelve," Draco pointed out helpfully, ducking a playful swipe from his brother-in-law.

"You know, we were told that Bellatrix Lestrange died in whatever went on at the Ministry today," Ron said, picking up a picture that Hermione had taken of him, Harry and Sirius during the Christmas of their fifth year. They were all too busy trying to tangle each other up in tinsel to pay much attention to the camera.

Harry looked at Draco, wondering how much of his duel with Bellatrix he and Severus had actually seen, and how much they'd told the others. He handed Ron a glass of scotch and settled back down on the floor with his own drink.

"Yeah. She did," he said, throwing his own drink back in one gulp.

"Good," Ron said simply, sipping his own drink. "How did it happen?"

Harry rolled his glass about in his hand. "We were duelling. I hexed her and she fell back against some broken furniture."

"And what? Did she get a nasty knock on the head?" Ron asked, expectantly.

"No. She landed _on_ the furniture and, well, skewered herself," Harry explained.

Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer…_witch_. She deserved it for what she did to him," Ron said, looking at Sirius' picture.

Harry said nothing.

"Hey, about what you said before about feeling like you resemble Voldemort –" Ron began.

"I don't want to talk about it. In fact, I don't know why I even mentioned anything at all earlier. I don't even want to _think _about it," Harry insisted vehemently.

"All right, Ron nodded. "But if you _do_ ever, you know, want to talk about it – I don't mind," he offered.

"Thanks," Harry murmured.

An awkward silence fell over the small group.

"I just realised that you've watched Draco and I get horrendously drunk –" Ron began.

"Several times," Draco added helpfully.

"But we've never actually seen _you_ get drunk," Ron finished, looking at Draco.

"That's right. I've never seen you even _drink_ in front of anyone else," Draco agreed.

"Well, I _was _keeping quite a big secret back then. I may as well not have gone to all the trouble of disguising myself if I was just going to get drunk and tell the first person I saw who I really was," Harry told them.

"Good point," Ron conceded.

"There's nothing to see anyway. I'm not a very interesting drunk. I don't have any sexual dysfunctions to tell people about," Harry said, looking meaningfully at Draco.

"Yes, well, if I'd been thinking clearly I wouldn't have said anything at the time, but there's a reason they call it 'drunken ramblings'," Draco pointed out, emptying his glass and pouring himself another one.

"Hang on a minute; you're not one of those flirty drunks, are you?" Ron asked suddenly. "I mean with you being gay and us being blokes and all…"

Draco choked on his drink.

"That really bothers you, doesn't it?" Harry asked mischievously.

"No, no, not at all. I'm just wondering whether we need to put some furniture between you and ourselves or not," Ron said quickly.

Draco was still laughing and it took all of Harry's self control not to join him. He knew that Ron didn't have a problem with his lifestyle choice, but he couldn't resist giving his friend a hard time about it.

"Ah, but you're not seeing the big picture," Draco said to Ron in between chuckles. "I mean, realistically, who _wouldn't_ want to be able to say that Harry Potter hit on them?"

Harry glared balefully at Draco. "I've never actually worked out why straight men seem to think that they're all irresistible to gay men. It doesn't matter _who _they are, they seem to think that if there's a gay man in the room, they aren't going to leave the room with their virtue – or certain other things – in tact. Don't worry Ron, your body is safe from me," he said, sending Draco off into gales of laughter. Harry threw back his drink. It was going to be a long and interesting night.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the concept of Harry Potter. Just the plot of this ficlet is my own.

Thank you to everyone who read the story and a big thank you to everyone who dropped a line or reviewed. I've tried to get back to everyone, but a couple of e-mail addresses listed on Ffnet are bouncing. Sorry. I really want to extend an extra special thank you to my beta/ editer-in-chief/ compardre **Sepia **for all of her hard work. You don't get enough credit for the hard work and the ideas you put into the story.

And a big big thank you to my guest beta **TexasJeanette **who has kindly agreed to help me out. Thanks Jeanette for all of your hard work and your ideas, not to mention your encouragement. No body (except Sepia) knows how much of a thank you you deserve for having to plough through my extremely rough drafts full of mindless ramblings and random waffles.

CHAPTER 18

"I'm never going to drink again," Harry moaned, holding his head in his hands, hoping that he might squeeze the pounding migraine out of his skull.

"Me either," Draco groaned, just as painfully. "No, wait, I think I said that just last week."

"Wha – whasshappening? Some'ody turn the light off, will ya?" Ron complained hoarsely.

"Ssssshhh!" Draco hushed him. "There's no need to yell!"

It came as an enormous relief to discover that they had been drunk last night. It explained a heck of a lot, like why Harry felt like he had a herd of wild hypogriffs thumping about inside his head, why he'd fallen asleep sprawled across Ron and Draco, and why none of them had woken up with their shirts on. Three empty liquor bottles sat on the coffee table and one lay near Draco's feet – the obvious culprits for their condition this morning.

"I have some potions in the kitchen," Harry muttered, getting to his feet after several clumsy attempts.

"Sweet relief," Draco sighed, using Ron as a leaning post and spoiling Ron's own uncoordinated attempts to stand.

Harry always made a point to keep some of his more useful potions tucked up in various handy places around his rooms, like the kitchen cupboards or the drawers in the bathroom, for emergencies such as the one he found himself in this morning.

He grabbed enough potions for the three of them and joined the others at the kitchen table.

"You're going to have to go without water. I'm not feeling up to finding glasses and serving drinks. In fact, I'm not feeling up to doing much more than collapsing right here," Harry said, practically falling into a seat at the table.

"I can live without the water. I'm not so sure I'll make it without those potions, though," Ron said, accepting two vials from Harry and gulping them down.

"Potions!" Draco cried reverently, barely pausing for breath as he drank first one, then the other.

"We have to be at breakfast in about twenty minutes," Harry groaned, swallowing the potions and putting his empty vials together with Ron's and Draco's in the middle of the table. "The potions should have kicked in by then," he continued, putting his head down on the table.

"I hope so," Draco said, following Harry's example and dropping his head on the table. "If we're any later than that, Ginny and Hermione will come looking for us, and I don't want to have to explain this to them."

"Speaking of explaining things, if either of you remembers why we woke up half dressed, don't tell me. I just don't want to know," Ron said, sliding out of his seat and making himself comfortable on the floor.

Harry and Draco grinned at each other. They could have a lot of fun with this.

ooOoo

Kingsley Shacklebolt was talking with Hermione and Severus when Harry arrived at the breakfast table.

"Have you got a minute?" he asked Harry.

"Of course," Harry said, following Kingsley out of the Great Hall and into the first empty classroom they came across.

The Auror locked the door behind them and cast a silencing spell about the room. "I thought you should read this in a place where there aren't any innocent ears about to hear you swearing at it," Kinsgley said, handing Harry the _Daily Prophet_, and taking a seat on one of the student desks behind him.

"I don't believe it," Harry muttered, reading the front page.

"It's a little unflattering, isn't it?" Kingsley asked, conversationally.

"You could say that," Harry replied, re-reading the article that told the world that he was a washed up wizard who missed the attention he had received when he was younger and who arranged for the Ministry to be attacked so that he could stage an elaborate rescue and enjoy the attentions of the Ministry. Minister Fudge had even come out and lent his support to the writer of the article, going so far as to allow the newspaper to carry a quote from him that publicly rebuked Harry for this shameless act.

Unable to bring himself to read another word, he threw the paper across the room. "That man is the biggest idiot I've met, bar none! How could he have known what happened yesterday? From what I've been told, he didn't see very much of it. He ran into a wall and knocked himself out before anything much happened."

"I was speaking to Severus earlier this morning. Nobody would treat an attack on the Ministry lightly. Some of the hostages would have reported it to the newspaper as soon as they were released, and this would have put everybody on the alert that there was a potential major threat to the wizarding world. The Aurors would have been called in to investigate and Ministries of Magic across the world would have been on alert. We would have been silently preparing for a war against whoever wanted to overthrow the Ministry. Voldemort won't want anybody to prepare for war until he's ready for one. I don't think that's the case right now. He's still doing his ground work, just like us, so this story is probably the only one that could have been run that would have explained away the apparent attack on the Ministry and made it appear less suspicious than it really was."

"That story is so far fetched, how on earth could it possibly have explained it?" Harry cried.

"It doesn't, but it will probably generate enough of a debate among the community so that the attack on the Ministry won't get treated with the priority it deserves. You know better than anyone that you're very unpopular with certain parts of the community – and you're very newsworthy. They'll try to get as much mileage as they can out of this article."

"Snape said something yesterday about how what happened yesterday didn't fit Voldemort's style, that it wasn't his way of doing things. I never thought I'd say this, but I agree with him. Attacking the Ministry was a very elaborate way to get some files out of the building," Harry said dubiously.

"If that was even the reason behind the attack," Kingsley added. "We questioned everyone who was sealed inside the Ministry. Most of them told us that they were being tested. If they could catch you and deliver you to Voldemort, then they would earn a place in the circle of Death Eaters."

"That's ludicrous," Harry snorted.

Kingsley looked closely at Harry. "That doesn't sound like you. I'll be the first one to say that you're a difficult person to catch, but don't tell me you've gone and developed an ego while my back was turned."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that they could have had this 'test' anywhere. Why did they choose the Ministry?" Harry asked.

"They didn't. Voldemort did. There were a few Death Eaters among the group that were sealed in the Ministry. They all told us that Voldemort had no intention of admitting the others into his circle of Death Eaters. He said that the main reason behind the attack was to find and deliver certain documents to him."

"Did they mention what they were going to do with the hostages?" Harry asked curiously.

"They said that they were told to 'take the most practical course' with the hostages," Kingsley replied.

"I've never heard of Death Eaters taking hostages. They kill on sight. Voldemort has enough spies inside the Ministry who can access whatever information he wants. There's something wrong about this whole thing," Harry frowned.

"We can talk about this more at the next Order meeting. Albus will be back soon and I'm sure he'll have some ideas about all of this. Anyway, what will you do about this article?" Kingsley asked, summoning the newspaper from where it had landed when Harry had thrown it.

"Nothing. What _can _I do about it?"

Kingsley folded the newspaper back up and tucked it back into his robes. "Nothing, I suppose. If you did say anything you might just be adding fuel to the fire. Hermione said that that she'd have a word to the students this morning over breakfast about this article. It's impossible to stop people talking amongst themselves, but she seemed pretty confident that, at the very least, they wouldn't give you a hard time about it directly. I didn't understand exactly what she meant, but she mentioned something about how memories of detentions with you and Snape aren't easily forgotten."

Harry couldn't help grinning. The _Daily Prophet_ had printed an article some months ago accusing Harry of behaving inappropriately with one of his students. It had become common knowledge among certain students that Theresa Chan, a young Ravenclaw, had been privately tutored by Professors Potter _and_ Snape. Certain students came to believe all three were involved in a sordid love triangle. Unfortunately, they made the mistake of letting Professors Potter and Snape hear them say this. Word of the grueling evening detentions they had served with both Professors quickly spread and, just as quickly, silenced the students on this issue. If they still spoke about it, it was behind closed doors with no chance of being overheard.

"What did you do?" Kingsley asked suspicously, after seeing Harry's evil grin.

"Nothing fancy. I just took them for a bit of a stroll through the Forbidden Forest," Harry said, trying to suppress his grin. "Don't look at me like that. You don't know the whole story. It was appropriate. Why don't you ask Snape what _he _did to the students? At one stage, he had them believing that they were testing experimental potions."

"That sounds like him," Kingsley nodded.

Curiosity replaced Harry's anger. "Speaking of people making a fuss about this, shouldn't the school be full of reporters?"

"Well, yes, but considering you immobilised the last group of journalists who came to the castle looking for you, I'd be surprised if any of them came back."

He had immobilised the last group of journalists who had come looking for him and had called on the castle's house elves to escort them all off the premises. "It hasn't stopped them writing rubbish stories about me though."

"You are newsworthy. Nothing will stop people printing stories about you."

"I guess. Anyway, yesterday, you said you wanted to see me about something," said Harry.

"Nothing urgent. I just wanted to see how you were doing. It's been a while since we've been able to sit down and talk. How often are you getting visions? You get that look about you when you've had one of your visions or nightmares. It's different to just tiredness. I taught you how to make potions so that you could have a supply of potions on hand for when you need them without having to look to an outside source for them. Are you still keeping a stock of potions with you or are you using the school's potions?"

Most people knew Kingsley Shacklebolt as a skilled Auror, but it was a little known fact that Kinglsey Shacklebolt was extremely proficient in the field of potions. He may not have been an accredited Master, like Professor Snape, but he had given Harry a very practical education which had sparked his interest in the subject area as Professor Snape's classes had never been able to do. Harry found that doing something so methodical as preparing and brewing potions helped him to relax and unwind – something which was difficult to do at the best of times during those dark years.

"I make my own," Harry assured him, breathing a sigh of relief that he was able to. He wouldn't have been able to stand the thought of having to ask potions from Snape. "And I take them when I need them, so don't worry. Anyway, I have to get back. Class is about to start."

"I need to be on my way as well. Minister Fudge wants to see the whole Auror Division. He's unhappy about what happened yesterday and, no doubt, he's going to try and blame us for it.

Harry walked his old teacher to the front doors of the castle before he hurried off to his own class, who were already lined up outside his classroom. He unlocked the door and watched them all file past him with their heads down and their eyes turned deliberately away from him. They were trying so hard not to stare, or even look, at him that he was surprised they didn't trip over or walk into the wall on the way past. One brave lad looked stopped in front of Harry and said: "We don't believe a word of it, sir. We think it's bollocks," before continuing on his way into the classroom.

He didn't know what Hermione had said to them, but he made a mental note to thank her profusely later on.

ooOoo

A sharp knock on the door interrupted Harry's class and it was difficult to say who was more surprised to see the Potions Master let himself in – Harry or his students.

"Can I help you, Professor?" Harry asked, quite pleased that he managed to sound less surprised than he felt.

"I would like a moment of your time. I shall wait here until your class is over, if you do not mind, of course," Professor Snape replied.

"No, of course not. In fact, the bell should be ringing any minute now," Harry replied, thinking what an irony it was that such exquisite manners should come from someone like the Potions Master. "Alright, you did really well today, and I think you've earned an exam hint: If you study 'protection' and 'deflection', you'll do well on certain parts of the test. Study hard," Harry said to his class as the bell rang.

The students packed up quickly and practically ran out of the class room. It was no secret among the teachers, and students alike, that there was no love lost between the two Professors, and while the students were curious to listen in on their conversation, none of them wanted to anger either one of the two Professors. No one wanted to risk earning a detention from either of them.

"You give exam hints to your students?" Professor Snape asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"If they learn those spells for no other reason than to pass my exam then I'll be happy. At least they'll be able to defend themselves if, or when, they ever need to," Harry replied seriously. "Now, what can I do for you, Professor?"

Without a word, Professor Snape closed and locked the classroom door and cast a strong silencing spell over the room.

"It's going to be one of _those_ conversations, is it?" Harry asked, watching the Potions Master closely. He had said he only wanted to talk, but Harry wouldn't put anything past that man. After all, he had never been the professor's favourite person…

"I am concerned," Professor Snape began simply.

"About what?" Harry asked, still watching the other man carefully. Professor Snape hadn't put away his wand.

"You have provided information to the Dark Lord. I need to know what else you have revealed to him."

"Wha-what?" asked Harry, who was too surprised to think of anything else to say.

"Yesterday you made reference to the fact that the Dark Lord wishes to kill you in order to swing a Prophecy in his favour."

Harry mentally slapped himself for being so careless.

"When you left school, the Headmaster revealed the contents of the Prophecy to only a very few of us – Mr Lupin, the Weasleys, Miss Granger, as she was then, Minerva and myself. The rest of the Order were informed when the war ended. To the best of our knowledge, the Dark Lord had never discovered what the entirety of the Prophecy foretold. When I asked you how he knew about it, you said that you had told him."

"W-when did I tell you this?" Harry stammered.

"While you and Mr Weasley were settling your differences."

Harry hadn't realised that he'd revealed that information. Looking for an excuse to cut their conversation short, he hurried back to his desk and began to pack away his notes and other materials.

"You are the last person who would assist the Dark Lord. The information must have been forced from you. It is critical that I learn what other information you have disclosed," Severus said, staying where he was. "Did you tell him that Draco and I were spying on him?"

"If he'd heard that information, you wouldn't be alive right now," Harry said without looking up from his desk. "And, for the sake of accuracy, I didn't tell _Voldemort _anything. I told his _Death Eaters_. I think," he added, whispering the last part so softly, that Severus couldn't have heard him.

"Very well. I am prepared to accept that. However, there can be no mistake that by providing Death Eaters with information, which they will have inevitably revealed to their master, you have put many people at risk," Severus pressed.

Harry dropped the notes he'd been holding and looked up. "Either my hearing must have gone bad or Hell just froze over. I could take an oath that I just heard you talking about your concern for _other people_ – you know, people _other than yourself_."

"Do not presume to know anything about me, _Potter_," Professor Snape said, glaring dangerously at Harry. "And you may save your censure. _I _am not the one who put them at risk in the first place and who refuses to help them now. The over-decorated hero of the last war, no less. Do _my _ears deceive me, Potter?"

Harry glared icily at his former Professor.

"I find it curious that you did not tell us that you had given information to the Dark Lord before now. One would have assumed that the appropriate course of action would have been to tell us of this occurrence as soon as you were able to so that we might have the opportunity to assess the risks and take steps to minimise them. I note that you did not do this. In fact, you are _still unwilling_ to do this."

Harry slammed his hand down on his desk. "I _would _have told you, but I…I…I didn't know. And then, when I remembered, it was too late. The war was over and there was no reason for anyone else to know. Anyway, if he was going to act on the information, he would have acted on it during the last war. The risk would have already been dealt with. In any case, for all that I remembered, it might not even have happened. It might not even have been real," he babbled.

Severus looked utterly confused. "What do you mean you _did not know? _What was not real?"

"I just don't know. It might all have been something else. I just can't tell. It's all so vivid, but…I just don't know."

"I am a skilled enough legilimens to be able to sift through your memories and extract this information," Severus offered, still puzzled.

"You'll do no such thing," Harry snapped, gathering up his notes and heading for the door.

"Do you really believe that there is no longer a risk? The Dark Lord may have acted on your information during the last war, but he may not have. Alternatively, he may be better able to use the information now, particularly as the Order is still laying its groundwork to prepare for the upcoming battles. It is important that you give me the information that I seek. If you would prefer, the Headmaster is also a skilled legilimens. More so than I. He will have no difficulty extracting this information."

"_He _can stay out of my head too. And don't even think about trying to access my mind without my permission. You two aren't the only legilimens in the castle. I got to be quite good at keeping unwanted people out of my mind. Now, if you don't mind, I'm running late for my next class."

"I hope this is a decision you do not regret making," Severus said coldly as he removed his spells and left the room.

ooOoo

Harry hated to admit it, but the Potions Master had a point. Regardless of how he felt about the matter, it could only be to the Order's advantage to hear the information that he had given to Voldemort and his Death Eaters – if in fact, he'd given them any at all. Unfortunately, this would mean they would find out certain things that he didn't want them to find out. He wasn't proud of the person he became during those dark years, and while he didn't care what most people thought of him, there were certain people he cared about and whom he didn't want to disappoint.

Realising that Snape was right – painful as it was – was one thing, but deciding what to do about the problem was another. Snape had given him two options. He'd rather not take either one of them if he could help it, but as he saw it, he didn't have much of a choice.

"Are you going to tell me what's happened, or am I going to have to get you drunk again tonight? You've been acting weird all afternoon," Draco asked, as their last class of the day left the classroom.

"Nothing's happened," Harry said, helping Draco to straighten up the classroom.

"Uh-huh," Draco said, flicking his wand and sending a desk skittering across to its normal spot in the room. "Well, if you need any help, you know where to find me."

Harry lowered his wand. "Nothing's wrong, but there's something I have to do, and…I _really _don't want to do it."

"Story of our lives, isn't it?" Draco said, letting the last chair slide into place. "The offer still stands too, so feel free to take me up on it."

"It's alright, I don't need any help-" Harry began.

"I didn't mean that. I meant that if you still need me to get you drunk tonight, come and find me. I know the girls would disagree, but sometimes alcohol is the best friend you'll ever have."

"Er, I might stay away from the drinks for a while. I'm still feeling the effects of last night's drinking party."

"Suit yourself. Oh, and speaking of the girls, they're looking for you."

"I know," Harry mumbled. "They've been looking for me for a couple of weeks."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I guess it'd be hard not to notice. Anyway, I just thought you should know. I'll see you at dinner," he said as he left the classroom.

Harry gathered up his teaching material and left the room.

"Harry, fancy running into you here," Ginny called out to Harry as he locked up his classroom.

"You mean, outside my classroom?" Harry asked.

"I promise you, I had _nothing _to do with this," Ron said, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but where he was.

Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Shush."

"Er, look …" Hermione began nervously. Harry cringed. She had that look. So did Ginny. It was the look that all women seemed to get when they had something gushy and emotional to say. Every man on the face of the planet recognised that look, and most of them ran as far as they could whenever they came across it.

"I'll hold them off. If you start running now, you might just make it out of the castle before they get past me," Ron suggested helpfully, cringing under 'the look', even though it wasn't directed at him.

"They'd get past you?" Harry asked Ron.

"Of course they would. Have you seen them when they're angry? _Scary_," Ron replied, shuddering. Both girls glared hard at Ron.

"Come on inside," Harry sighed, unlocking the classroom door and showing them all inside. He'd already made it clear that there were certain things he wasn't prepared to talk about and he sincerely hoped that they weren't going to question him about them again.

"Harry, we haven't really had a chance to sit down and talk properly since you came back. We know that you haven't wanted to, and that's fine, but if you ever need us, you know that we're here for you. Just like in the old days. Nothing's changed between us. I don't care who you are, or who you _think _you are. You're my best friend, and that's all there is to it. Okay?" Hermione asked.

"That's right. You're like family to me, and nothing's going to change that," Ginny said firmly. The girls looked a little teary eyed.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly. He had been deliberately avoiding talking to them.

"I…I know that you mean it when you say that the way you feel about me…about _us…_ hasn't changed, but you know that things can't be the same, don't you? I mean, we were apart for nearly ten years and we've all changed. I'm not the boy I used to be. Actually," Harry said, looking thoughtfully past them, "I can't even _remember _the boy I used to be."

"We all evolve and grow up," Hermione said.

"Well, _some _of us do, anyway," Ginny added with a meaningful look at Ron.

"Wha'd I do?" Ron asked in wide eyed innocence.

"I see the boy I once knew every time I see you talk with your students, or help some of the other teachers, or even when you're just spending time talking with us. He's still there, Harry," Hermione assured him.

"No, he's not. He's definitely gone," Harry said sadly. "I don't even _feel _him anymore. But that's beside the point," Harry said, changing the subject. "When I came back here, I thought we might be able to pick things up where we'd left them off, but nothing feels the same anymore. Not even _us_. You must feel it too."

"I _have _felt it," Hermione said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them. "At first, I thought you'd left us, and I'm not referring to the fact that you lived as a muggle for eight years. You didn't want to spend time with us the way you used to and when we were all together, you didn't _talk _to us the way you used to. But I thought about it and I realised that we were _all _having some trouble feeling comfortable as a group again. I know I just said that when I looked at you, I could see the boy I once knew, but I can also see that you've changed. A lot. Sometimes I've seen you just sitting on your own and, well, I've never seen anyone look so sad, Harry," Hermione said, blinking back her tears. "Other times you look so angry that it scares me. You're right. In light of everything that's happened, our relationship can't be the same, but that doesn't mean that we can't build a friendship on new footing and new terms. We're not expecting to be able to pick up where we left off, but we are hoping that you'll stop avoiding us and try being our friend again."

Harry didn't know what to say. He'd forgotten how selfless and generous they could all be – and how _smart ­_Hermione could be.

"I haven't been avoiding you," he mumbled.

"You have," Ginny protested. "You _ran_ the other way when you saw Hermione and I coming down the hallway last week."

"Oh, that. I wasn't running _from _you. No, I was…er…being called by someone, that was all," Harry stammered.

"Right," Ginny snorted.

"If I saw the two of you marching toward me I'd run too. There's nothing unusual about –" Ron began before being punched by his wife and his sister.

Things suddenly seemed much brighter.

"Oh, by the way, the editor of the newspaper is going to print an apology in tomorrow's edition. As I recall, he said he'd make it a large and lengthy one too, on the front page." Ginny said.

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Oh yes. He was very keen to be helpful," said Ginny, grinning broadly.

"Very keen," Hermione agreed. "Particularly when Ginny told him that if he wasn't willing to be helpful and retract that pack of lies, she'd ask _Draco _to come down and try to _persuade _him to do the right thing," Hermione added, grinning just as broadly as Ginny.

"Thanks, but it isn't going to make one bit of difference. Whoever believed that rubbish will still believe it, and whoever didn't, won't."

"Maybe, but I think it will be good for people to see a public apology. At the very least, it will bring the idiocy of that article to everyone's attention," Hermione said, trying to be helpful.

"I still say you should have waited for my classes to finish so I could have come with you," Ron mumbled.

"You had a full day of classes," Ginny pointed out. "We couldn't wait."

"Yeah, and you were looking a bit peaky this morning, anyway. I thought you might have been ill. Are you feeling all right now?" Hermione asked.

"Er…peaky, you say?" Ron asked, glancing quickly at Harry. "No. Your eyes must have been playing tricks on you. I feel fine."

Neither Harry nor Ron were about to tell Hermione that they had spent the night getting thoroughly drunk. Hermione was very responsible, and getting drunk on a school night most definitely wasn't.

"Come to think of it, you didn't come to bed last night. Did you spend _all _night in Harry's rooms?" she asked.

"Well, yes. You know how we used to get when we played chess. The time just got away from us," said Ron a little lamely. Harry groaned inwardly. Ron _still _couldn't tell a believable lie to save his life. His efforts were just downright embarrassing, and now they were stuck with that ridiculous story.

Ginny and Hermione looked suspiciously at the two boys. "Chess? All night?"

Harry shook his head. This was going to be difficult to explain.

ooOoo

Harry waited until the students had all reported back to the House dormitories for the evening before he went in search of the Potions Master. He was sure he'd find him creeping about the castle, trying to catch students out of bed after curfew. When he was a student, Professor Snape had managed to catch him wandering about after curfew enough times to make him think that guarding the corridors of the castle against errant students was something he did every night without fail beginning when curfew was called and only giving up his watch when everybody came down to breakfast. But to his surprise, the Professor wasn't making any rounds of the castle floors. Instead, Harry found him in his rooms.

"Yes?" the Professor asked bluntly when he opened the door to find Harry on the other side.

"You were right," Harry said, getting straight to the point.

"That does not surprise me, Mr Potter. Now, what, in particular, was I right about?"

Harry looked cautiously about him. "About what we talked about this morning," he said quietly.

"I suppose you had best come in. We certainly cannot have this conversation out here," Snape said, standing aside and letting Harry into his rooms.

Immaculate. The man was still so tidy and organised at eleven o'clock at night! Not a thing looked out of place in the Professor's rooms except the two books that lay open on the lounge and the single mug sitting idly on the coffee table. He even managed to look immaculately groomed at eleven o'clock at night. Gone were his teaching robes. Instead, he wore dark robes of charcoal grey, which were every bit as stern and imposing as his Hogwarts attire.

"I've interrupted you," Harry said, making an effort to be polite.

"Of course you have," Professor Snape huffed, standing in the door way with is arms folded. "However, I shall overlook it…_this _time. Now, what do you want, Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the Professor's antics. "You told me that you wanted to find out what I'd told Voldemort. I'm offering to tell you. I would _never _intentionally do anything to hurt the people around me, but if I have, I want to do what I can to fix that."

The older man narrowed his eyes. "That aside, why are y_ou _are offering to tell _me_?" he asked suspiciously.

"Believe me, if I could think of a better way of doing this, I'd do it."

"I would have imagined that I would be the _last _person you would wish to speak to."

"Tell me, Professor, how many people do you know who can break a memory charm without torturing someone, and without leaving them with permanent brain damage?"

"It is not a widely spread skill, as most people have little, if any, opportunity to practice it. Success rates are also not very high, largely because each mind is different and is subject to different circumstances and pressures. Nonetheless, I believe the Headmaster is capable of retrieving suppressed memories, as is Minerva. I would imagine that they would be more suitable candidates for this task than myself. You have kept this information to yourself up until now. They are due to return in a few more days. I do not think it will make any difference if you keep it secret until then."

"They'll make a fuss. I know it. So will everyone else. I don't think you will. Not in the same way everyone else will, anyway."

"How do you mean?" asked Severus, sounding more curious than irritable now.

Harry gave him a very chilly look. "You were right when you said that I would _never_ do anything to help Voldemort, or his Death Eaters. Whatever they learned from me was forced out of me. They poured Veritaserum down my throat and they…well, I'm sure you know what I'm getting at."

"You realise, of course, that I will be reporting whatever you disclose to me to the Headmaster who will, in turn, tell the rest of the Order."

"I know that. I'm sure you'll tell him what he needs to know, without exaggerating anything or making a big deal out of whatever you've seen or heard. There are certain things that I don't want anyone to see or know about, but since you used to be a Death Eater, I think it would take quite a bit to shock you. In fact, you might even enjoy this, well, parts of it anyway," Harry said, coldly. Of course the Potions Master would be delighted. Seeing Harry being tortured might be the first thing to put a smile on the older man's face. Harry tried to picture the Potions Master grinning with delight, but eventually gave up. The idea was just too unusual.

"Then I look forward to it. Follow me," Severus said flatly, leading Harry into his sitting room. He drew his wand and gave a tiny flick of his wrist and the books on the couch closed themselves and stacked themselves neatly on the coffee table, next to Professor Snape's forgotten mug.

"Sit," he commanded, pointing to a spot on one of the lounges, which Harry obediently sat in. It was more comfortable than he imagined it would be and it would have been easy to sit back and relax – if he wasn't in the Potions Master's private rooms, sitting only a few feet away from a very irritated looking Potions Master.

"You made little sense when we were discussing the matter this morning and you are making even less sense now. I do not understand what you mean when you say that you can remember some things but not others, and that some things may not have been real. Begin again, and tell me everything. Do not leave a single detail out, regardless of how unimportant you believe it to be," the Professor instructed, taking a seat on one of the other lounges.

"It's not that simple."

"Over the years, I have found that nothing is ever simple where _you _are concerned," Professor Snape replied. "Tell me what you _think _you know."

"Alright, I know I told you that Voldemort knows about the Prophecy, but, to be honest, I don't actually know if he does or he doesn't –" Harry began.

"If that is the case, why did you lead us to believe that he did?" Severus asked.

"I don't know. I didn't even know I'd said it. I don't know what I was saying yesterday. I didn't intend to say anything. Ron got me so mad, I just blurted out the first thing that came into my head," Harry explained.

"So the Dark Lord does not know what the Prophecy says," Severus said, trying to understand.

"I didn't say that. I said that I don't know if he does or he doesn't," Harry replied.

Severus sighed and massaged his temples. "I am getting a headache trying to follow your explanation. Begin again. This time, start at the _beginning_."

"I don't know how else to explain it," Harry cried. "I don't know where to start."

"Some things never change," Severus said, shaking his head. "Begin with the information you gave to the Dark Lord. We have established that you did not volunteer it. You were captured and it was forced from you."

The man had no tact at all. Then again, he'd always known that. The only thing that surprised him was that he had actually expected the irascible potions master to show some sensitivity about a topic that he didn't find easy to talk about.

"I didn't actually tell _Voldemort_ anything. I told his _Death Eaters_. Apparently Voldemort wanted to kill me himself but he ordered his lackeys to find out what I knew first."

"Yes, he often delegated the more menial and less important tasks, like information gathering, to his servants," Professor Snape nodded.

"I told them who was in the Order and what I knew of the Order's plans."

"You became aware of my own involvment with the Order the summer of your fifth year. Did you tell them of this also?" Professor Snape asked.

"Yes. But I don't think the information got back to Voldemort. If it did, you would have been killed as soon as he'd heard of it. My friends came for me and they got me out – once, I escaped on my own – but we made sure that whoever had heard the information I'd given wasn't able to tell anyone about it."

"That was extremely fortunate, both for you and for Draco and myself. I trust the measures that you took were permanent," the Potions Master said, carefully.

"They were. I made sure to tell Albus everything anyway, just in case I'd missed something or someone, though," Harry assured the other man.

"Now that I think of it, there were times when the Headmaster would pull both Draco and myself to the side and warn us that there was a chance that someone had stumbled onto our secret but each time he did this we assessed our situation thoroughly and there was never any substance to those rumours. I had always wondered where the Headmaster had come across this information, since none of our other sources had ever heard anything of the kind," Professor Snape thought out loud. "This does not, however, explain how the Dark Lord may, or may not, know of the Prophecy."

"I was just getting to that," said Harry "I don't dream very often. If I do, I don't usually remember them, but I remember dreaming a lot during the war, and for a while after the war. I'd have terrible nightmares about –" Harry cut himself off before he said too much. "But after the war, something weird started to happen. I'd be having a dream about being caught by the Death Eaters. They'd be…well…doing what they were doing," Harry said vaguely, unable to bring himself to be any more specific than that. Somehow, it was less painful if he didn't actually use the word. "And I'd be telling them what I knew and then everything would change and I'd be in an entirely new dream. I'd still been caught by the Death Eaters, but this time, they were holding me down and I was reciting the Prophecy for them and telling them about the protective wards around Hogwarts. I don't remember doing that, but there I was."

"How could you possibly know about the school's protective wards?" Severus asked, wide eyed.

"In my third year, I thought Sirius was trying to kill me, and when Sirius managed to get into the school Hermione Ron and I did some research on it. We also asked Albus about them. I wanted to know how safe I really was in the castle," Harry replied.

"I see, continue."

"Other times, I would be dreaming and then everything would change and I'd be watching the Weasleys, or Ron and Hermione. I wasn't a part of what they were doing, I was just watching them from further away."

"I am no expert on human psychology, however, I believe that it is normal to dream of fictional scenarios that are based upon real events, particularly at times of great stress."

"I thought the same thing, but a few weeks ago, I had that same dream where I was telling the Death Eaters about the Prophecy and the wards around the school, but this time I saw more than I'd ever seen before. I was fighting them and when there was only one Death Eater left standing, we threw spells at each other at almost the same time. All I remember is that I saw black and when I came to, I couldn't remember where I was or what had happened."

Professor Snape looked thoughtful for a few moments. "I do not think you realise the significance of what you are suggesting. _If _these events happened, and _if _your memories were suppressed, then what you are suggesting is that your own mind broke through a memory charm, or several as the case may be here, that it was restrained under. I accept that it would have been an unconscious action on your part, but nonetheless, I had no idea that it was even possible."

Harry looked confused.

"Consider this: there is only one way to break a memory charm and that is to apply enough pressure to it that it yields under the strain. When people are tortured to break through their memory charms, the stress and distress generated by the torture is enough that the whole mind itself comes under an enormous physical and psychological strain which can be enough to dispel a memory charm. However, this normally results in irreparable brain damage. When I circumvented the charm placed over Dobby's memories, I isolated a particular part of his mind and applied pressure to one specific area, rather than applying pressure generally over the entire area and damaging otherwise healthy parts of his mind."

Harry still looked confused. He began to suspect that the Potions Master spoke in lengthy and convoluted sentences deliberately.

The Potions Master sighed impatiently. "A mind that is under the confusion of a memory charm should not be able to navigate itself and find the exact location of this charm, much less remove it. If this is the case, I am surprised that you did not cause yourself any brain damage. Though at times like these I am forced to wonder…"

"_Alright,_" Harry cut him off. "We're in the middle of something which, according to you, is very important. I know it's hard when I'm right in front of you, but try not to let your tongue get carried away with itself."

"What nonsense are you babbling about, Potter?" Professor Snape huffed, colouring slightly and folding and unfolding his arms across his chest. "If I am to search your mind for suppressed memories, we had best begin."

The Potions Master got up off the sofa and sat on the table in front of Harry.

"Wait a minute," Harry said, as Professor Snape pulled his wand out and pointed it at him.

"What is it? This will take some time. The sooner we begin, the sooner we will finish," said the impatient Professor.

"I know that, but I, well –," Harry interrupted before the Potions Master could begin. He thought he'd been ready to do this, but now that the professor was about a half a minute away from getting inside his head, he wasn't so sure. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so exposed, like he was about to run a marathon – naked.

"If there is nothing further, let us begin," Professor Snape said some few moments later, raising his wand again.

"You only need to search through my memories of those three years or so after I left the Castle and until the war ended. Don't look through anything else," Harry warned him.

"I had no intention of wasting any more of my time. Searching through your memories of those three years will be a large enough task. However, they are not at the forefront of your mind. Those memories are buried under at least eight years of more recent memories. I will need to navigate through them to get to what I'm looking for."

"What? What if I made sure they _were _at the _forefront of my mind_? If I concentrate on the day I left the castle, would that help? Would you just be able to go straight to it?" Harry asked.

"It would certainly help, but you will not be conscious while I am doing this, so it will make no difference," Professor Snape replied.

"I'll be _perfectly_ conscious while you're inside my mind, thank you very much. I'm not letting you wander around in there unsupervised," Harry told him firmly. The memory of Snape's occlumency lessons were hard to forget.

"You do not understand what you are saying," the Professor told him. "If you move while I am searching your mind I may make an error and injure you."

"I won't move," Harry said firmly.

"You are still so stubborn. Breaking through a memory charm is very painful. As hardened as you _think _you have become, I assure you, you will not be able to remain still through that."

"If you were in my place you'd be just as stubborn." Harry had every intention of having his own way.

Harry and Snape glared at each other, locked in a silent contest of wills. "Very well. If you insist on remaining conscious – _Petrificus Totalis_." Professor Snape said finally, as he cast the spell and locked Harry into a full body bind where he sat. He had cast the spell so quickly and unexpectedly that Harry hadn't even had time to look surprised. "This will hold you motionless. Should I, however, discover a memory charm, the body bind will do nothing to deaden the pain. Incidentally, you should have been able to anticipate that spell. With reflexes as slow as they are, one wonders how you managed to survive for as long as you have," Snape smirked at Harry who could do nothing but stare back at him.

Harry had to satisfy himself with swearing loudly at him inside his mind.

"If you have nothing further to _say _–"

Harry added a whole new string of insults to his internal mutterings.

"-we shall begin."

Even though Harry knew what Snape was going to do, his mind reeled each time it felt the other man trying to intrude on it and it threw him out. He had spent so much time trying to protect his mind from intruders that throwing people out of it had become something of a habit. He didn't even have to think about it anymore, he just did it. Harry thought that, all things considered, it was perfectly understandable, but he doubted that it would make one jot of difference to the Potions Master who was looking more and more irritated as each of his attempts failed. Besides, in the state he was in, it wasn't as though he could offer any explanations anyway.

"We are getting no where," Professor Snape sighed after Harry had thrown him from his mind for the third time. "I would rather not use any more force than I already am, so _you _must let _me _in. Relax your mind."

Harry was about the farthest from being relaxed as he could be. Hogwarts' irascible Potions Master was about to forcibly violate his mind and see and hear things that Harry had never wanted anyone to see or hear. Relaxing was impossible.

"If you are ready," Professor Snape began again, "I shall try again on three."

Harry concentrated on what was about to come.

"One, two, _three_."

As the Potions Master probed at the edges of his mind again, seeking entrance, Harry grabbed the link that he'd extended and pulled him inside, directing him to the part of his memories that began after he left Hogwarts at the end of his fifth year."

Professor Snape's intrusion into his mind was just as quick, painful and direct as it had been all those years ago when he was giving Harry occlumency lessons – just like the man himself. And yet, despite having all the softness of touch that one could expect from a Hungarian Horntail, he was able to execute the most complex and delicate of tasks. The man was a walking monument of contradictions, but then, so was he.

"Now let go. Let me go," Snape instructed. "If you do not, I may not be able to get out again."

Harry was finding it difficult to let him go. In fact, he found himself becoming intertwined with the link to him and he could see the edges of some of the Professor's own memories. He saw Snape fighting with his father and Sirius in a large old house, and then he caught sight of a very young Snape taking the Dark Mark before he saw Snape crying over the body of a woman.

"Stop it," Snape cried, shaking Harry loose but Harry grabbed hold of him before he could leave his mind altogether. "Do not force the link. Open your mind and release your hold on me."

Slowly, he eased his hold away from the professor's link and concentrated on following the professor's movements though his mind.

It seemed that the Potions Master was simply skimming through Harry's mind, stopping every now and then to look a little more closely at something or other before skimming past them again. He stopped again and pulled one of Harry's memories to the forefront of his mind.

Harry couldn't understand why the other man was so interested in this particular recollection of himself having a meeting with Joshua at a small muggle pub in London. Aside from their conversation about a rare book that Joshua had managed to acquire, which wasn't altogether interesting in the first place, there was nothing special about that particular memory.

"Brace yourself. This will hurt," the Potions Master said. Thanks to the body bind he'd been put in, there wasn't much that he could do though.

Professor Snape was swift and exact and he probed Harry's memory with the precision of an expert. Once, twice, three times. It felt, to Harry, like someone was hammering a chisel through his mind. It wasn't painful. It was blinding. Excruciating. Harry felt Snape strike at his mind again and again before he couldn't take any more and he let the numbness of unconsciousness claim him.

The professor looked critically at the young man on his sofa. "That was impressive. You held out longer than I expected you to. Now, what have you been hiding from us, Potter?"

ooOoo

Harry opened his eyes but squeezed them shut again against the light in the room.

"And how is he?" a voice asked, sounding worried. The speaker sounded very much like the Headmaster but that couldn't be right. He wasn't expected to return to the castle for another few days, was he?

"I will not be sure until he wakes up, but there did not seem to be any out of the ordinary neural activity. The fact that there appeared to be _any _neural activity at all was a surprise in itself."

That could only have been Snape. But why on earth was Snape, of all people, here? And where was he? Deciding that he didn't have the energy to think on the subject right now, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and let the blackness re-claim him.

ooOoo

"Severus, your tongue is sharper than a guillotine," Albus admonished him, taking a seat at the foot of the lounge where Harry was resting and looking fondly down at the young man who was snoring lightly.

"I suppose so, but when have you ever known me to be any different?"

"He is no longer the self conscious student you once knew," said Albus, giving Severus an odd look. "Since his return here, I have seen him deal very harshly with people who would seek to treat him badly or speak badly of him, except you and Ronald Weasley. I understand that Harry and Ron have always been very close, but I wonder why it is that he has let _you _carry on as you do."

"I believe you are imagining things. He and I continue to argue and threaten one another, just as we have always done."

"I see," Albus said. "Well, perhaps you are right. I am getting old and my eyes are not what they once were. It would not be the first time I have been mistaken." Albus got to his feet and showed himself to the door. "Come and see me when you are ready and give me your report on what you have found out from Harry."

"Of course, Headmaster," Severus nodded, showing Albus out. "But what exactly_ did _I find out?" he asked himself, shutting the door behind him and heading back into his room.

ooOoo

By the time Ron took his seat at the staff table in the Great Hall, breakfast was almost over.

"You're late – very late – but I've decided that I don't want to know." Ginny huffed as Ron walked into breakfast hall.

In utter confusion, Ron looked to Draco who mouthed _"women!"_ and shrugged helplessly.

"I saw that," Ginny said to Draco without even turning around.

"Hey, where's Harry this morning?" Ron asked, quickly changing the subject before he and his brother-in-law could get into any more trouble.

"I don't know. I thought he was with you," said Ginny. "Come to think of it, Severus isn't here either. That's not like him."

"I was given a message this morning that Severus and Harry are running an errand for Albus which might take a few days," Draco recited.

The others stared at him in disbelief.

"Harry and Severus?" asked Ginny.

"Yes," Draco replied.

"_Severus Snape_ – the manwho hates all things Potter?" Ron asked, dumbfounded.

"That was the message. Apparently it was something _only the two of them could do_," Draco shrugged, trying, very hard, to stifle a grin.

Severus had sent him an Owl message letting him know that he and Harry would be missing from their classes for a few days. The Potions Master had suggested that he inform everyone who asked that he and Severus were running an errand for the Headmaster. The message had ended with a brief promise to explain everything to him as soon as he was able, and Draco had to admit that he was looking forward to hearing an explanation for why his friend was planning to run off with Harry for a few days.

"Do you think Harry will be alive at the end of it all to tell us about it?" Ron asked his sister.

"I _think_ so," Ginny replied, sounding as skeptical as her brother looked.

ooOoo

In a dark room that was lit by only a single candle that stood on a small marble table, the Potions Master sat in his favourite chair, reading a book and waiting for his young charge to finally wake up.

"Oh man, I'm never drinking again. I mean it this time, Ron," Harry moaned, mournfully burrowing further down into the blanket.

"That is likely the most intelligent thing you have ever said," replied a familiarly sarcastic baritone.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing in my room?" Harry asked, bolting out from under the blanket.

"_Your _room?" Snape asked, raising a single eyebrow.

A quick look about told him that he certainly wasn't in his own rooms. This place was much darker and gloomier – though that might have had something to do with its owner. "Oh, terrific," he muttered, remembering what brought him to Snape's doorstep in the first place.

"Indeed," the Potions Master agreed. "You have been here for three days, as have I –"

"_Three days?_"

"I spent the better part of one and a half days analysing the state of your memories. You recovered from the experience more quickly than I expected, however, whether your mental agility has been affected…remains to be seen." Professor Snape smirked.

"Accio glasses," Harry whispered, catching his spectacles in mid flight and throwing them on his face. "And what did you find?"

"Only one of your memories had been suppressed by Death Eaters. It was the one in which you recited the Prophecy for your captors and you had been able to unlock its contents for yourself."

"Only one?"

"There were a few memories that had been suppressed…at your own request," Professor Snape said, with uncharacteristic diplomacy.

"That's not something I want to remember," Harry said, remembering what he'd begged Kingsley Shacklebolt to erase from his memories. He looked like he'd just swallowed something sour. "But it had to be done."

"Why would you even think that you had to go to those lengths?"

"Would you rather I hadn't?" Harry snapped.

"I suppose not, but I would not have expected it, particularly from you."

"…me either," Harry admitted, fidgeting with his glasses.

"Nonetheless," Professor Snape said after a long and awkward silence, "having your mind tampered with like that is extremely dangerous. You could have been permanently impaired."

"I trust Kingsley. He was very careful. So you really didn't discover anything useful, did you?" Harry interrupted.

"It does not appear so."

"So this was all for nothing?"

"I do not actually believe you would have wanted me to discover that you had, in fact, endangered us all."

Harry was about to protest but changed his mind. The Potions Master was absolutely right. The idea that he might have put his friends in danger had been gnawing away at him and had driven him to seek out his least favourite professor in the first place.

"What will you tell the Headmaster?" Harry asked carefully, trying not to look at him.

"I will most likely tell him that I have discovered no cause for concern."

"He's going to want to know more than that," Harry said dubiously.

"Of course he is, and I shall tell him that you have made it extremely clear that you do not want me to divulge that information to anyone. At the moment, he is very willing to keep you happy and I do not think he will press me any further than that – for now."

Harry looked skeptically at his former professor.

"I am seldom wrong on these matters," the Potions Master assured him.

"You could tell him that I erased your memory right after we finished," Harry suggested. "In fact, I could _really_ erase your memory –" he stopped. The look on the professor's face spoke volumes and Harry was quite certain that if he even tried to tamper with this man's memory, he would live to regret it.

Harry turned away, unable to look at the other man any longer. His mind was still reeling from the effects of having his memories stirred up and agitated by the Potions master. Memories better left forgotten in the dust of eight years ago were still trying to settle themselves in his mind – a steady stream of snapshots from the past and the looming presence of the one he feared the most. The one who threatened to destroy all the decency and humanity left in him.

"It is after dinner, but I would advise that you do not try to return to your rooms before student curfew is called. In case you should meet anybody on your way back, you should know that to explain our absence for the past three days the Headmaster has circulated the story that you and I are assisting the Aurors with their inquiries about our role in the recent incident at the Ministry."

"It must make you feel good to know that you were right – again. You've been right all along. That's a very annoying habit of yours," Harry said quietly, still looking anywhere but at his former professor. "They've all put their faith in the wrong person. After everything I've done, tell me, how can I claim to be the good guy in all of this? How can I look anyone in the eye and claim to be doing the right thing?" he sighed,

"I –"

"Never mind," Harry interrupted, slowly getting up off the lounge. His already throbbing temples pounded even harder with the effort. "I forgot who I was talking to for a minute."

"You should take a headache draught before you leave," the Potions Master said, noticing Harry's silent grimace.

"Ah, I'll be fine," he said, quickly declining the offer. It was only a headache. He would endure the pain until he could take one of his own potions, which didn't taste like he'd washed out his dirty socks in them, the way the Potions Master's did. "I'll be going. There are a lot of things I need to catch up on and I can't afford to waste any more time," he said, stumbling towards the door.

"I will not have a random student see you staggering out of my rooms," Professor Snape said, ignoring the insult and moving toward the fireplace. "If you will insist on ignoring my advice and leaving now, I suggest that you travel by floo. My network is connected to the Malfoys' network. I believe they are spending the evening with the Weasleys. If your floo is connected to their network, you may return to your room from there. If not, there is only a short distance between your rooms, and you will look far less suspicious leaving their rooms than leaving mine," he said, offering Harry a pot full of floo powder.

Harry looked at it suspiciously.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Professor Snape asked impatiently.

"I've seen the kind of booby traps you've got around your room. There's nothing in there that's going to rip my hand off or anything, is there?"

The Potions Master glared at his former student. "Of course not."

"You can't blame me for asking," Harry muttered, taking a handful of floo powder and stepping into the fireplace.

"Besides. I would never be able to explain such a thing to the Headmaster," Professor Snape smirked just seconds before Harry disappeared from the room.

ooOoo

Harry landed with a sooty thud in front of Ginny's and Draco's fireplace.

"Harry?" Draco asked, startling Harry who was still wiping soot off his glasses.

"Oh, er, hi. Sorry about…well…dropping in…er…"

"Don't worry about it. What happened to you? Where have you been? Do you want a drink?" Draco asked, quickly throwing some papers behind the cushion beside him on the lounge and heading for the drinks cabinet.

"No. Definitely no drinks right now, thanks," he said, getting to his feet. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here right now. I'm really just passing through on my way to my rooms. I hope you don't mind."

"You're right, Ginny and I were supposed to be having drinks with Ron and Hermione, but I don't know how you could have known about that. You don't have to rush off. Feel free to hang around here for a while. I'd love to know where you've been. I got a note from Severus saying that you and he were running some sort of errand for Albus but it didn't say anything more than that. So what were you _really _doing for the last few days?"

"I don't really want to talk about it," he sighed, dropping into one of Draco's lounges.

"You know the girls are going to have questions for you, don't you?"

"Yes, and I was hoping you'd help me fend them off."

Draco looked closely at Harry. "Alright. I'll do my best to keep the girls – and Ron – off your back. You look like you're about to fall asleep standing up. I know you said you were heading back to your own rooms but you're welcome to crash here if you like. Ginny's sleeping at Ron's and Hermione's."

"Are you two having problems?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"No. Ginny and Hermione are having a girl's sleep over. They do that every now and then. Ron usually comes round here or locks himself in a different room," Draco replied.

"Oh. Well, I'll head back over to my room. Sorry again for dropping in unannounced."

"You know, you should connect your floo to ours."

"It's not _that _far to my rooms," Harry replied.

"That's not what I meant. We're preparing for another war. There might come a time when you need to get out of your rooms in a hurry and find one of us. On the other hand, there might come a time when you need to see certain people without your movements being traced across the school, or when someone might need to get to you in a hurry. Severus is the most paranoid person I've ever met but he's connected to ours, the Weasleys' and Albus'."

"He's connected to Ron's and Hermione's fireplace?" Harry blurted out.

"Ron, Hermione and Ginny, more so than the other Weasleys, have been very loyal to him. We all started working together when I started dating Ginny. After that, we all changed our opinions of each other, but I guess depending on each other to keep you alive will do that to you.

"Alright. I'll open up my floo tomorrow. Right now, I just want to find a headache potion and fall into bed," he sighed, letting himself out of Draco's rooms.

Once Harry had gone, he retrieved the parchments he had stashed behind the lounge cushion and hid them safely between the pages of one of the books on their bookshelf.

He penned a short note to Ginny, in case she should come back to their rooms before he did, and hurried over to their fireplace. Harry might not have wanted to talk about where he'd been the last three days, but Severus might.

ooOoo

"So what exactly were you and Harry _doing_ for the last three days? He told me he's exhausted and that all he wants is to go to bed and get some rest. The mind reels at the possibilities," Draco grinned. He stepped through Severus' fireplace and casually brushed a few specks of loose soot off his clothes.

"I know of at least ten ways to kill you right now and make it look like an accident," the other man said without even looking up from the book he was reading. "You were not supposed to be in your rooms this evening."

Old habits were hard to break. During the last war they had always made sure the other knew exactly where they were at all times. At first they could only trust each other. Their fates as spies were intertwined. If one was given up, the other would be as well, so they always made sure that the other could find them if they needed to. It was a habit that carried on well after the war had ended. They had played a dangerous role in the war and no one could convince them that they were safe.

"I had to change my plans. I got some mail from a…well informed friend."

The Potions Master lowered his book.

"And what did they have to say?"

"The Death Eaters are taking new recruits, and they're trying to recruit some of the students."

"I expected as much. He cannot breach the castle's defences, so he will attempt to recruit those who are already inside. We have already anticipated this. The Headmaster has privately alerted all staff, and yourself and Ginny. There is nothing more we can do for now," Severus said, sending his book back to the crowded bookshelves behind him with a quick flick of his wand.

"We might have suspected before but now we _know_ it's going to happen. I don't like the idea that my wife is going to be exposed to Death Eaters who will have every opportunity to hurt her just so that they can hurt me," Draco said, balling up his fists.

"Your wife grew up with six brothers and she's the wife of a Malfoy. She is more than capable of protecting herself. Besides, I have never seen a more protective family than the Weasleys. She will be well looked after. In a way, I feel sorry for the person who _does_ try to attack her. I would not wish an attack by a full Weasley and Malfoy clan upon anyone. I assure you that your wife will be safer here than anywhere else. At least at the school, the threat is limited to a group of students who have not reached their full magical potential."

"You're not an idiot. You know just as well as I do that Voldemort will teach them how to wield his brand of magic," Draco argued.

"I am aware of this," Severus said, making his way to his drinks cupboard and pouring them both a tall glass of scotch. "But you must be aware that whatever he teaches them is tempered by their talent and their skill. You became a school-age Death Eater. Even with the Dark Lord's training, how skilled would you say you were? I will concede that you were able to cast the killing curse, but I believe that this skill was learned during the training _we _had together, rather than the training you were given by the Dark Lord," he added, magically sending one of the glasses over to Draco.

Draco dropped down onto the lounge, making sure not to spill his drink. "You're right. I know you're right. And having been on the receiving end of an attack by the entire Weasley family, I can honestly say that I was lucky to be alive at the end of it," Draco grimaced lightly, absently rubbing an old wound on his chest.

His first meeting with the rest of the Weasley family didn't go as well as he would have liked. He didn't scare easily, but he wasn't ashamed to admit that he felt real fear that day. The whole family had gathered to meet Draco. Even Ginny had been surprised. It was rare for the whole family to be able to get together. Draco privately suspected that they had all cancelled their appointments for that day to make sure that they could be there to keep an eye on him.

His near death-by-Weasley experience had happened after lunch. Ginny was helping her mother carry the lunch dishes into the kitchen when Draco had noticed a bee hovering near her head. Ginny was allergic to bee stings and the last time she had been stung Draco had had to take her to the hospital for treatment. Without thinking about where he was, he drew his wand intending to remove the danger. A split second later, he was bludgeoned by seven spells and he was set upon by three large Weasley men.

It was a long time before he visited the Weasleys again.

"Anyway, you haven't answered my question. Why did you and Harry disappear for three days?"

"I am sure I sent you a message," Severus said, seating himself on the other lounge and sipping casually at his drink.

"And it couldn't have been more vague. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. You know I trust your judgment," Draco offered, swirling the ice in his drink, "but I have to admit I'm curious. Harry just dropped into my fireplace looking like he's just seen a ghost – or worse. He tried to cover it up, but he didn't do a very good job of it. Here's a man who was able to fool everyone into thinking that he was a different person, but tonight he couldn't have been more transparent. He was _scared_. What on earth did you both do that could have effected him like that? And if it effected _him_ like that, why are _you _so calm and _un_affected?"

"When Mr Potter and Mr Weasley were settling their differences, Potter mentioned that the Dark Lord was aware of the contents of the Prophecy. Were you not curious to know how the Dark Lord came by that information?"

"I don't remember – no, wait a minute. My brain must have gone to sleep. I didn't think anything of it at the time."

"Potter admitted that he thought he might have been the one to have revealed that information. He admitted that he had been captured by Death Eaters on some few occasions and forced to give them certain information."

"I suppose that explains some of those creative lines we saw on his body," Draco snarled.

"He also admitted that he thought his memories had been altered and that while he could not remember giving them any other information, it was possible that he had and that those memories had been hidden from him. I spent the last three days searching through his memories of the final three years of the war trying to determine whether or not this was the case."

"And what did you find?" Draco asked.

"I found that nothing that would suggest that we are in any more danger than we thought we were," Severus replied.

Draco sighed. "You have a very annoying habit of not answering the question while you're answering the question."

"He had in fact given more information, but each time he was captured, he escaped, but not before eliminating everyone who had heard the information he had given."

"That's sensible," Draco nodded approvingly. "But why did he tell you about this now? Why not before?"

"He believed he'd taken enough steps to eliminate the danger. I managed to persuade him otherwise. I can be very persuasive when I want to be."

"You must have been_ very _persuasive if he let you look at his memories of the war. He always gets so touchy whenever anyone asks him about it," Draco said, looking carefully at his friend. "So for the last three days you've been inside Harry's mind?"

"No. It only took one day. It took him two days to recover."

"So you stayed with him for two days while he recovered?" Draco asked curiously.

"I am not leaving Mr Potter alone in my rooms. Merlin knows what state I would have found it in if he had woken up before I had returned from my classes," Severus huffed.

"I don't know. It's not that I don't believe you, but there's nothing in what you've told me that explains what I just saw. When Harry dropped into my room he looked scared. I saw _real fear_ in his eyes. That must have been some recovery process," Draco said dubiously.

Severus looked into his glass. "His memories are still in a state of disarray. They are trying to find their place in the order of his mind and he is seeing them all again as his mind reorganises itself. He recovered quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. He should have slept for at least another two days to allow his mind to rest. I imagine _we _might also look troubled if we were forced to face who we were in the last years of the war."

Draco looked up so quickly that he nearly knocked over his drink. Severus Snape was _empathising_ with Harry Potter. He looked suspiciously at his glass of scotch. Maybe there was more alcohol in it than he thought…

"What did you see in Harry's memories?"

"I felt a great sadness echoing off the walls of his mind," Severus said, getting up and pouring himself another drink. He brought the whole bottle back with him when he returned. "There is sadness, with overtones of anger and revenge. A dangerous state of mind."

"I'll ask Ginny, Ron and Hermione to keep a closer eye on him," Draco said, watching his friend, who had been staring into his glass for some time now.

"What are you not telling me?" Draco asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I've known you for a long time and I can tell when something's eating away at you. What is it?"

Severus put his glass down. "He saved our lives. Not once, but several times. I'd had my suspicions since we heard him talking to his friend, the one who owns the book store in Knockturn Alley. It was not simply something he did in passing either. He went to great lengths to ensure our safety time and time again."

"Merlin…"

"I had always wondered why none of the Dark Lord's circle ever questioned or suspected our loyalties. Nobody is so clever that they do not make a few mistakes. It would seem that Potter was able to obtain information from even the most closed of circles within the Death Eaters and he made sure that everybody who suspected our movements disappeared."

"What sort of lengths did he go to?" Draco asked.

"You needn't concern yourself with specifics," Severus said dismissively.

"In your language, that means you're not going to tell me, doesn't it?" Draco asked.

"That is correct. I have assured Potter of my secrecy with regard to the contents of his mind and I am not so dishonourable that I would make the contents of another man's mind general knowledge among the community."

Draco chewed thoughtfully on a cube of ice. "I told you, didn't I?"

"Excuse me?" Severus asked, confused.

"He really isn't turning out to be the man you thought he was, is he?" Draco asked.


End file.
